Pleasing falsetto
by clotgirl
Summary: Kyle wants emacipation from his parents. He (as Ivy) is hired as a shot girl in an upscale NoDoNoPa club by Mr. Paolucci. He has to serve no other than Eric Cartman who seems to have a thing for Ivy. It turns out that Cartman is also employed by Mr. Paolucci, but for a different business altogether. Rated M for explicit language, sex, violence, murder and more adult themes! Kyman
1. The master plan

Hi everyone!

This is the first thing I write in over ten years. I am a little rusty, but I'm sure you'll like this story.

Please be advised that this is a dark story: when I'll be finished with it, it will contain explicit language, sex, violence, drugs, alcohol, murder and other assorted crimes. This is for mature audiences only. At my current rate, you can expect 2 new chapters a week. I'm estimating 15-20 chapters.

For the record, I do not own South Park, nor do I intend to make a profit with this fanfic. I have no connection to the creators and if I knew where they were, I'd be on my knees sucking their balls.

Now, please sit back with a glass of wine, or beer, or whatever rocks your world and enjoy.

Reviews are welcomed!

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo

* * *

 _What if I told you that everything I ever believed about Eric Cartman turned out to be wrong? What if I told you there's more to him than just a foul mouth?_

" _He's innocent, Stan! We need to get him out of there!"_

" _Kyle, with all the fucked up things he's done, what makes you so sure?"_

" _I just know, OK! He could never do that!"_

" _How can you just know? Dude! He got away with felonies before."_

" _It couldn't be him."_

" _What if it was?"_

" _Stan! He couldn't be at two places at once!"_

* * *

My Name Kyle Broflovski, I am sixteen years old and I live in South Park, Colorado. I attend Park County High School and I have about a year and a half left before graduation.

I was raised to have strong family values. I was shown to be compassionate and kind towards others. I was taught to question everything and to look for information myself before drawing a conclusion. There was only one thing I was not allowed to question, and that was the life plan that my parents had devised for me before I was even born.

You see, my mother is not from South Park: She was born and raised in Newark, New Jersey. She was a raging party animal and a heavy drinker back then. Whenever I asked her about it, she'd just say that it was a Jersey thing. My father was working on a case and had to stay in Newark for a few months. That's how they met. They dated for a few weeks before my mother became pregnant with me. When she told my father that she was pregnant, he immediately asked her to marry him but that there would be conditions: she had to move to his home town of South Park with him and be a stay at home mom. As for me, I had to become a lawyer like my father and take over his firm, which he took over from his father. Easy, right?

My friends were all told that they could be anything they wanted to be by their parents. To my dismay, my father had thought of every single detail of my existence:

I would finish high school with high honours, attend Harvard law school where I would also graduate with high honours, work at my dad's firm which I would take over upon his retirement, meet a nice Jewish girl that I would marry, have perfect little Jewish kids with her and raise my oldest child to be a lawyer so he or she could take over the firm once I retired.

I had no say in the matter. No matter how many times I tried to talk to them, they never changed their minds. The last time I tried to talk to them, it was pretty brutal. So I gave up asking and devised a plan of my own.

* * *

"Kyle, did you read those law books I brought you last week" Says my father, peeking into my room.

"No, dad and I'm not going to read them. I don't want to be a lawyer: I never did. I find law so boring." I reply, turning towards him.

"Kyle, I thought we talked about this!" My father's face is starting to get pink. He's getting pissed off.

"No, you talked. I said no."

My father breathes heavily as my mom fully opens the door and walks in.

"What? What? What? Kyle, Bubbe. You have to start being reasonable about this opportunity. Do you know how many kids would be thrilled to take over a successful law firm? It is guaranteed to be yours." My mother says as nicely as she can.

"It doesn't matter whether you like it or not, Kyle. In truth, it changes nothing. Very little people get to do what they want in life. It's something that you must accept." My father adds.

I don't care how "lucky" I am. I don't want this. I feel an anxiety attack setting in. I am like an animal in a cage.

"Bubbe, people do what they have to do, not what they want to do. Imagine how chaotic the world would be if everyone did as they pleased?" My mother chimes

"That's right Kyle. Who would want to be a garbage man, or a plumber, or even a gynecologist? Yet, without these people, society collapses. The sooner you accept your fate, the easier it'll be for you." My father adds, as calmly as he can.

The mere thought of being my parent's ass puppet makes me gag. My mom glances my way: I can tell she feels bad for me but I know she has to pretty much do as my father says. She is as stuck as I am.

"You can't force me!" I say out of desperation.

My mom shuts her eyes and bows her head as my father walks closer to me and grabs me by the shirt, bringing my face inches away from his.

"You're right son: I can't force you. But as in everything, there will be consequences. You can either do as you are told, or you will be cut off completely: you will pay your own rent, tuition, food, clothes and our doors will be shut. In other words, we will disown you. Understood?"

I feel tears forming in my eyes. My father lets go of my shirt and marches out of my room followed by my mother. As she exits, she quickly glances in my direction before shutting the door behind her: she looks as though she is on the verge of crying. I feel tears streaming down my cheeks. My father doesn't give two fucks about my happiness. All he cares about is his little plan. He'd rather disown me than let me be happy.

To be honest, I have no clue what I want to do in the future and I think it's pretty fucking stupid to force teenagers to pick a career that they will do the rest of their lives. No wonder so many people are fucking miserable: they either select a program that they know will be easy but boring, or their parents "guide" them like mine.

I sit back down at my desk and look at my laptop screen. I fantasize about leaving South Park. I have always wanted to travel and visit places all over the world. I google places I'd like to visit: I wonder what it's like in Tokyo during rush hour, I ponder upon how beautiful Berne must be in winter, I imagine how incredible it would be to climb Mt. Everest and how cool it would be to eat a poutine in Montreal. Thinking of the poutine put a smile on my face: the first time I heard of it, I was in a KFC gravy hot tub with Cartman dipping McDonald fries in it. He forgot that in poutine, you actually need cheese curds to make it authentic.

I sigh knowing that traveling is not part of what my father has planned for me. I can't afford living on my own, and my father knows this. I am trapped in this shit hole. Unless...

It suddenly hits me: I have to get out of this town right after I graduate. I will never live up to my father's expectations. I will not study law, nor will I ever marry a nice Jewish girl, or any girl for that matter. I have never found the courage to tell my parents that I'm into boys. That too would get me automatically disowned and it would certainly break my mother's heart to find out that her precious Bubbe is gay.

I need to find a way to make money without my parents knowing. They wouldn't let me get a job because they want me to focus on my studies so my grades are excellent. It doesn't matter that I have an A average: any further distraction could bring it to A-.

Here's the plan:

Step 1: Find a part-time job that pays a decent wage. A job with tips would be perfect!

Step 2: Save the money. I could even as my cousin Kyle to invest it.

Step 3: After graduation, hit the road and never come back.

Sure, I will miss Stan and Kenny. No, I won't miss Cartman. Through the years, Stan, Kenny, Cartman and I have stuck together for the most part. I can tolerate Cartman as long as we're not alone together for more than a few minutes. I also love to watch him fucking himself over. But becoming a lawyer and coming out are completely out of question. I feel my throat tightening on itself just by thinking about it. I need to lie down. I throw my hat on the floor and strip down to my boxers in order to crawl into bed.

My mind is made up: I will be job hunting as of tomorrow. I'll work as a waiter or even as a barista because of the tips. I would have to go outside of South Park to work, that's for sure! I can't risk being seen by anyone, especially my family or someone that will let them know. My parents would kill me! I need to be focusing on getting accepted at Harvard since I'll be sending out my application next year. If I don't, my parents will be suspicious.I need to find a job close enough so that it doesn't take me forever to get there, but far enough so that only a minimal amount of the people I know go there. I would have to think outside the box for that.

North Park, of course! I heard that there's a whole new district in the northern part of town. It's called NoDoNoPa.

Working in the afternoon or early evenings would be more suitable to accommodate my sleep and school schedule, but it makes it easier for me to be seen by someone I know: my parents shop or dine there occasionally. Working at night could be a good idea because unlike me, my parents sleep like logs and I've snuck out my window a bunch of times and never got caught. I am pretty limited on my choice of jobs though: I'll need to work somewhere that's open twenty four hours a day, most likely a diner or a coffee shop.

I never defied my parents before and the anticipation of actually doing it is giving me a funny feeling. No, scratch that! It feels fucking amazing. In my whole life, I've never felt so liberated and in control. Yes, yes… I should feel bad but guess what?

My dad would rather disown me than allow me to be myself!

And you know what?

 _So be it!_

I'm high on this feeling of rebellion. Why should I respect people that are incapable of respecting me? As soon as I finish high school, I'm out of this shitty depressing place. Fuck going to College right after graduation. I want to travel the world and see as many places and faces as possible. I want to learn by experiencing things rather than memorizing information. I want to feel connected again. I want to live only for myself. And all of South Park can go fuck itself! Don't like it? Whatever! I do what I want!

Gasp!

I just had a Cartman moment. Why won't that fat fuck get out of my head? That ass hole has a way of getting under my skin to the point of making me insane. The worst part is that other than his dirty mouth and selfish personality, Cartman had changed quite a lot since we were kids. He's a fucking giant! He must be around six foot three inches. He also lost a lot of his baby fat and turned out to actually being big boned. He's also grown quite a bit of muscle, but I still call him a fat ass since he calls me a Jew all the time. Come to think about it, he's been looking pretty good since grade ten started.

Why did I just think that? I must be tired due to all the excitement about tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be glorious.

* * *

I'm sitting at the table with my family for breakfast and Ike keeps picking on me. I swear to God, my brother can be such a little shit sometimes. He finds it hilarious that my fate is pre-determined while he can pretty much to whatever his heart desires. He loves to rub it in my face and it infuriates, motivating me further to find a job. I'll go to NoDoNoPa right after school to see who is hiring.

"Finally" I say when I finally see Stan's car pulling up in front of home.

I grab my stuff and say goodbye to my family as make my way to the door. I run to Stan's car. Kenny is sitting in the front today, which forces me to sit in the back next to the fat ass Nazi.

"Good morning!" I exclaim as I put on my seatbelt on.

"Morning Kyle" Stan and Kenny reply in unison.

"Sup Jew?" Cartman replies with a smirk.

I let out a long sigh.

"God damn it Cartman! It's not even eight in the morning and you called me a Jew already? Can't you shut your mouth for once?" I say, slightly irritated.

The Giant glares at me, his smirk is growing. He's getting ready for another one of our legendary arguments. Stan and Kenny let out small little sighs of annoyance. I'm pretty sure I heard Stan say "God damn it not again".

"Well excuse me princess Khal! I call you a Jew because that's what you are. I'm not the one who eats Kosher, you are. If you have a problem with being a Jew, it's you parents you should bitch at, not me."

I look at him dead in the eyes: his hazel eyes have little sparks of gold in them and they get wider in anticipation of my response. I'm starting to believe that he gets turned on by confrontation. I look down at his smirk: it has evolved into a full-fledged grin. He infuriates me. My gaze returns to the golden sparks in his eyes.

"Shut the hell up, Fat ass!"

"Don't call me Fat you son of a bitch"

Yeah, he has a point. I will need to come up with new insults for him. He's not fat anymore and I'm still a Jew. My emerald eyes are locked with his.

"Don't call my mom a bitch"

"But Khaaaaal, your mom is a bitch!" Cartman says in his annoying little voice, his eyes narrowing in on mine

"Enough!" Stan snaps.

Cartman and I take our eyes off of each other and turn our attention to the reflection in the rear view mirror of a pissed off Stan.

"Seriously! You guys do that all the fucking time! Can the two of you please grow up? It's starting to get embarrassing, especially when you guys lash out at each other in public. We aren't eight years old anymore! Jesus Christ!" Stan continues, his face growing red.

"Yeah! You guys should just have sex and get it over with." Adds a chuckling Kenny

I sigh and decide to stare out the window, in silence. I start daydreaming about leaving this shit town as I hear Cartman muttering "Shut up Kinny." I can't wait until the end of the day. I told my mom I was going to the library after school and that I'd only be back around dinner time. My ass was covered.

The rest of the day is pretty uneventful: at lunch break, Stan asks me to hang out after school, so I lie to him and tell him I had to finish my biology project: I wasn't going to postpone my job hunt. He finally convinces me to go by after dinner to play video games for a couple of hours. "It'll cheer you up" he says to me. I wonder if I look as miserable as I feel.

The final bell rings and it's the sweetest sound I've heard all day. I wave my friends goodbye and start heading towards the library. The bus stop to go to NoDoNoPa is right next to it. I never walked so fast in my life. Once I finally get on the bus, my heart starts pounding in my chest. I am a nervous wreck, but I have to do this. I need to do this if I want a chance at being happy.

* * *

Now that was very disappointing.

Once I got to NoDoNoPa, I walked into 3 coffee shops and got turned down for the night shifts. Something about not being able to let underage employees work past ten o'clock at night. I was offered late afternoons and week-ends by Starshmucks. I said I'll think about it.

I spoke to the manager of a diner called _Harley's_. He offered to take me as a bus boy for early evenings and weed-ends. When I asked him about night shifts, he also tells me that he won't hire underage employees to work past ten o'clock at night. I said I'll think about it too.

I got home just in time for dinner. I barely say anything at the table. All I hear are my parents praising Ike for his perfect score on last week's math exam. My mother asks me why I'm not touching my food. I let her know that I'm not hungry. I guess I must truly be getting depressed. I excuse myself from the table and inform my picture perfect family that I will be going over to Stan's house to hang out for a bit. My mother glares at me – she hates me leaving the house after dinner on a school night. I tell her Stan and I wanted to study for the upcoming English exam together. That seems to soother her.

I bid my family goodbye and head for the door. As I walk, I feel a crushing pain in my chest as I am starting to realize that working at night won't be an option. I'll have to get really creative to get away working in the afternoons and weed-ends. Maybe wear a fake moustache or wig, or something along these lines.

I sit down on Stan's couch as he puts on Call of Duty. We start playing. My super best friend's house is very quiet: his parents went to Denver to watch a musical called _The Book of Mormon_. It's supposed to be really good and it won like 9 Tony awards or something. His sister is upstairs spending time with her looser ex-boyfriend Skylar. She used to date that retard when she was 13 and he was like 23 at the time. If you ask me, he's the textbook definition of a douche bag. Stan and I remain in silence for a good fifteen minutes before I feel his stare on me.

"Dude! What's going on with you lately" He asks with concern in his voice.

"Nothing! Why do you ask?" I reply, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Kyle, I know something's up. You keep to yourself more than you used to. You barely speak, you barely eat and… I don't know dude! You just seem to be moping around constantly lately. I want to help you."

Shit! I can't tell him what parents want to force me to do, and I sure as hell don't want him to know my plan to get away. I need to think of something fast.

"Stan, I appreciate your concern. I am grateful that you care about me enough to notice and ask me about it. The truth is I've been having bouts of insomnia lately and I haven't slept decently in weeks."

I hate lying, but with what I want to do, I'll need to get used to it. I still feel really bad lying to Stan but I have no choice.

"Kyle, you never told me you had insomnia. Did you see a doctor about it? How long has it been going on?" Stan asks, genuinely concerned.

"Hum, it's been going on for over a month and I'm seeing a doctor next week." I can feel my face turning red. Lying to Stan makes me feel terrible compared to lying to my parents.

Stan looks at me with one eyebrow raised. I hope he takes the bait.

"In any case Stan, can you please, huh, keep quiet about this? I don't really want people to know about my business."

Stan immediately nods "Of course dude! I totally get it. Don't worry: your secret is safe with me. Honestly, I'm glad you told me about it. You've been acting so strange lately that I thought you were going through major depression. I didn't want to see you become one of those faggy goth kids."

I burst into laughter at that last one. Look who's talking. "Ah! Come on! Me? A goth kid? That's so not like me Stan! I love how you're the one that joined them after Wendy dumped you for the first time."

Stan laughs at that too. I still lied to my best friend and I feel a sting of shame in my heart and my cheeks going red again. I feel as though I'm going to cry. I excuse myself from Stan's presence and run to the bathroom upstairs. I splash some cold water on my face and look at myself in the mirror. Despite the hint of shame lingering in my belly and the sting in my eyes, I can't help but be proud of the way I handled that situation.

I had to do what I had to do in order to keep the suspicion down. I succeeded.

Walking out of the bathroom, I overhear a conversation between Shelly and Skylar.

"Oh! Skylar, if only I could get the job, you and I could move out in no time. Sure, it's a late night shift but who cares if I would minimum five hundred bucks per night."

"But Babe, you're too young to work at Vatican! You're not twenty-one yet."

"The owner doesn't care about the girls' age and it pays under the table, you turd!"

"Babe, I don't want you working as a shoot girl! Seriously, young guys are pigs! They'll grab your ass constantly. No girlfriend of mine will be treated like a piece of meat!"

"Oh! Skylar, I guess you're right… I love you"

And off to smooching they go.

I freeze. Maybe this is the job I am looking for: no one would recognize me as a girl. I'd have to find out what this place is all about first though. It sounds like it's a bar or a night club or something. I looked at myself in the hallway mirror: my face has features that are feminine enough, but my hair is a mess. I pull on a curl, to see just how long it is: it goes down to my shoulder more or less. When I let go, it bounces back to my ear. Unless I straighten it, it's not long enough for me to pull off being a girl. Being five foot seven, it's not like I would come off as a freakishly tall chick and I could learn how to do my make up on youtube: all I need is girl clothes and shoes.

I suddenly hear footsteps coming up the stairs

"What's taking you so long?" Stan asked as he turned the corner to face me.

"Oh! Nothing, Stan. I fell asleep on the John." I lied again. I just want to go home and work my plan. I try to look as helpless as possible.

"Holy crap! Go home and try to sleep properly dude! I'll give you a ride." He says gently taking my forearm and leading me back downstairs.

I nod in approval. Lying to Stan is something that I just need to get used to. He can't know about my plan. Despite the pinch in my chest, I needed to get out of here anyways because I had research to do on this Vatican place in NoDoNoPa and I also couldn't bear to keep lying to Stan like this...Not for the time being at least.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed.


	2. Dude (looks like a lady)

I ran to my computer the moment I got home. I google _Vatican NoDoNoPa_ and get their official web page. The place is a lounge and night club renowned to have the prettiest shot girls in Park County. I look at pictures of those girls, and I must admit they're very pretty: they're all wearing short, classy dresses. This is great! I would need to find dresses that cover my shoulders and that have a mock neck, or a turtle neck so that I can hide my adam's apple as well as my shoulders. Kenny had once told me that I look like a girl from the back because I have a slender, straight pair of legs. If I wear opaque stockings and knee high boots, I won't need to shave my legs. The worst part is that I am convinced that my mom has a green dress that would be perfect for me: it's a dress that she used to wear in New Jersey before I was born. I have seen it in pictures. She was much slimmer then, so it should fit me right.

I call the number I found online for Vatican and using the most credible feminine voice I can emit, I speak with a certain Mr. Paolucci*. He sounds like he's the owner:

"Vatican."

"Hi! I am interested in applying for the job position of shot girl at your bar"

"Dis is no bar. Dis is a high end nightaclub and lounge."

"Oh! I'm sorry sir! Are you still looking for shot girls for your night club?"

"Si, we still looking for shota girls, but no trashy ones. Just classy gooda looking ones."

"I'm classy. Could I come by for an interview at some point this week?"

"Si, Si please comma by. Imma Mista Paolucci. Be here tomorrow for eleven tirty. If I lika what I see, you will start rightaway for training and then we can discuss schedule."

"Thank you very much Mr. Paolucci. I am looking forward to meet you tomorrow."

"Oh! Si! Before I forget, what is your name young-a lady?"

I can feel my eyes widening. Why didn't I think of a name? The first thing I see is my Batman t-shirt on my bed. Next, I think hottest girl in Batman who also has red hair.

"Hallo? Miss?"

"Ivy, my name is Ivy"

"See you tomorrow night Eevee"

Click.

Holy crap! This is happening! I can barely contain myself and my heart is pounding in my chest. That guy I spoke with sounded like Super Mario on crack and thinks I'm a pokemon or something, but that's totally irrelevant. Oh my God! This is for real, and this happens tomorrow!

Shit! I have nothing to wear. I don't own any girl shoes or make-up. I need to come up with something, and I need to come up with it quick. I could always go look for that green dress my mom used to wear...

My parents are still downstairs watching television, so I use this opportunity to sneak into their room to look through my mom's closet. I find a box marked _New Jersey_ on it and sure enough, the green dress is in it. I hold it up to me, and it seems like I'll actually be able to pull it off. I find a pair of 5 inch heel black knee high suede boots that my mom never wore. They look too big for her, so that's probably why. I also grab some thick black stockings. I then take my loot to my room and hide it under my bed. The next order of business should be make-up and jewelry. My mom always wears the same colours on her face. She has emerald eyes like mine, so I know that orange, green and gold will look nice on me too. I go to my mom's make up box in the bathroom and pull out things that I'll need: black eyeliner, eye shadow, concealer, foundation, bronzer, blush, lip gloss and mascara. I also grab my mom's flat iron and some of her cheap fashion jewelry.

I always wonder why the fuck girls wear so much crap on their skin.

I take my loot back to my bedroom and find make up tutorials on youtube. I had no idea that applying make-up was such a long and meticulous ordeal. I find that I'm actually very good at it. After about thirty minutes of contouring and highlighting, my make-up is done. Holy shit! I do look like a lady! I start flattening my hair and realize that I will need to get the wig after all: it's taken me another half hour, and I don't even have half of it done! I finish it regardless because I want to see how I'll look.

Next, I put on the green dress which is a sleeveless black mock neck with a thick shiny empire waist varnished belt with a silver buckle. The skirt past it is pleated, giving off the impression of me having nice rounded hips complemented by my genuine bubble butt. I put on the stockings, then I put on the boots and I look again in the mirror.

I look so HOT!

I look better than any of the girls that voted me ugliest boy in class. I wish they could see me now.

My red hair is straightened and slick. My eyes are outlined by black eyeliner and the top of my eye lids are coloured with orange and green eye shadow. My few freckles are hidden by concealer and foundation, my long natural lashes are lengthened by mascara and I pink sheer lip gloss is making my lips shine. My mom's jersey dress is perfect in the sense that the empire waist gives the illusion of a perfect girl waist. The black boots follow the shape of my legs so perfectly and complement it with a silver heel tip.

I decide that I'll go job hunt dressed like this: sure the dress is a little outdated, but there's no point spending money on a job I may not even get. My main concern is the hair: it looks OK straightened, but it takes way too much time. I will buy a wig regardless though: I look better with curly hair anyways.

I go shower, taking off all the make-up. For the first time in my life, I shave my arm pits and my legs. There's a first time for everything after all.

I'll go buy a wig, my first wig, tomorrow.

And I'll go for an interview, my first interview, at Vatican.

* * *

I feel butterflies of excitement dancing in my stomach. I'm sitting at the table with my whole family and I can't stop dangling my legs like an excited child who's about to open a gift. I am so excited at the thought of getting that wig which should in turn get me that job.

"Bubbe, eat your breakfast. You barely eat as of late and your father and I are getting worried." My mom said with a stern voice.

"I'm fine mom, I just don't have much of an appetite, that's all. By the way, I'm going to the library again after school to start my history project." I lie through my teeth.

"I don't understand why you always need to go to the library when you have an internet connection right here at home" Ike says with a smirk on his face.

What a fucking little smart ass. He annoys me so fucking much. Thankfully, I have an ace up my sleeve thanks to a conversation I had with my father years ago about this exact same topic.

"Well you see Ike, the internet is a great tool for communication, but not necessarily a great tool for information. You can't believe everything you read online: there's simply too much misinformation on there. Yes, some sources are valid, but it requires way too much skimming. That's why I prefer to use books for my projects." I reply to my brother as I look at him dead in the eyes and raise an eyebrow.

Fuck you, you little shit!

"You know Ike, your big brother is right. I'm very proud of you Kyle for remembering to think critically at all times." My father says looking at me.

He's such a hypocrite!

And just like that, my dad sealed the deal and my mom didn't even open her mouth. I'll go buy my wig after school and go try on my outfit before my parents get back. No need to go to Denver for the wig: I can just say I lost a bet or something should anyone ask.

* * *

On the bus to NoDoNoPa, I start to think about the day that had just passed. School was OK except for the fact that Cartman and I got into another fight at lunch time because he's a douche. We were all sitting down at our usual table. Wendy and Bebe came to join us, probably because Wendy wants to get back with Stan.

They had been dating on and off since the third grade and it's always the same story with them: Stan tries to get with Wendy, Wendy ignores Stan, Stan takes the hint and stops pursuing Wendy, Wendy freaks out and tries to get closer to Stan, Stan is a confused mess for a week or so, Stan and Wendy get back together, Wendy dumps Stan for another dude, Stan hangs out with goth kids for a while, Wendy and other dude break up, Stan tries to get with Wendy. Right now, they're at the "Wendy freaks out and tries to get closer to Stan" phase. They've had the same pattern for years now and I doubt it will change at any time. The two of them will most likely get married and have two kids and a house with a picket fence with a Golden Retriever named Rover.

Stan was too busy being captivated by Wendy and Kenny was too busy focusing on Bebe's massive boobs to notice that Cartman was throwing tiny balls of white paper in my hair and snickering like an idiot. He was annoying the living shit out of me.

"Cartman, can you please stop that? It's fucking annoying." I asked him as politely as I could.

"But Khal, I'm in the middle of making a masterpiece. I shall name it ' _Jew in a snow storm'_!" Cartman burst into laughter at the end of his sentence.

He was laughing so hard that I could see little tears form at the corner of his eyes whenever he slightly opened them. They were shooting golden sparks at me. I could feel my face starting to burn with anger. I started grinding my teeth.

"If you don't stop throwing shit at my hair, I'm going to kick your ass! I don't care how big or how strong you are, I will make you bleed" I yelled, jumping up from my seat.

Cartman noticed how pissed I was and his laughter stopped. His smile disappeared and he looked at me with his golden eyes wide opened. He stared at me right in the face and I stared back at him as he got up and came closer to me. Our faces were literally inches apart when he lifted up his hand and delicately dropped another ball of paper into my hair. He then gave me one of his innocent smiles and stepped back.

My mind saw nothing but red. Why must he be a monumental piece of shit? Why does he always have to push the joke too far? Without thinking, I pounced on him wanting to beat the living crap out of him, only to bounce back to exactly where I was initially: ass first on my seat. Cartman started to laugh his ass off again. I looked around and realized that Stan and Kenny hadn't even noticed what was going on. I looked back at Cartman, who was still laughing to tears, and I let out a sigh. There's no way I could beat him _._ I grabbed my bag and my tray and I made my way to the hall.

Despite all the rage I felt mere moments before I didn't feeling like fighting anymore. I felt tired, exhausted, depleted _._ I stopped by my locker and opened it when I felt a finger poking my right shoulder. I turned around and sure enough it was the fucking fat ass Nazi.

"What was that?" He asked as all signs of his bout of laughter completely vanished from his face.

He looked serious for once, but I don't fall for it.

"What was what?" I replied nonchalantly, turning my head back to my locker.

"You, walking out of the cafeteria like that. It isn't in your habits Khal! You are feistier than that." He replied, seeming truly curious. I could almost feel a hint of concern in his voice.

"Not in the mood, Cartman. Just drop it." I softly replied to him as I closed my locker and walked away.

"It's not fun when you're like that Kahl! You're supposed to fight me! What the heck is going on with you?" Cartman replied, following me.

"Well sorry for not living up to your standards." I replied.

Cartman and my parents should totally have tea together and talk about how much I disappoint them. I realized then that Cartman stopped following me.

It says a lot about my current state of mind when a fight with Cartman is the highlight of my day at school.

Getting off the bus, I start heading to a store named Perruquiers. That's where I will buy my wig. I pulled out a hundred and fifty bucks from my savings. I read that natural hair is more expensive that synthetic, but that it looks and feel much better.

I am greeted by a stylish blonde woman with a crazy hair cut.

"Hi! Welcome to Perruquiers. My name is Sarah, how can I help you today?" She says, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hi! I'm, um, I'm looking for a wig." I reply, trying very hard not to blush.

"Sure! Do you have any ideas of what you are looking for?" She enquires.

"Well, I was thinking of the same colour as my hair but longer, like to mid-back or down to my butt. And I want it curly, like mine." I say, looking down to the floor, feeling my face starting to burn from a blush of embarrassment.

"Oh! I think I have exactly what you want. Please have a seat on one of the chairs. I'll be right back." She said turning around and going to the back of the store.

I sit down and glance at myself in the mirror in front of me. In a little over eight hours, I'll be fully dressed in drag. Before I know it, the blonde girl is back with two wigs: the two of them are more or less the same colour as my own, but one of them looks super shiny. She makes me wear a net on my head before placing the wigs. The super shiny one's length ends slightly above my elbow when I stand up and the duller one goes down to my ass. They both look so nice on me that I have no idea which one to go for.

"Wow! I like both of them. Which one should I pick?" I ask the blonde girl.

"Well, they both look gorgeous on you: the shorter one is synthetic and the longer one is all natural hair. The natural hair is more expensive and sells for one hundred and twenty-five dollars, where as the synthetic sells for seventy dollars."

"I'll take the natural one please." I say, taking it off.

I pay for my wig and I am given 2 hair nets from Sarah: she says they're on the house. She explains to me how to take care of the wig and even gives me a special box to keep it in when I'm not wearing it. She shows me how to wear it without having move all over the place with a few bobby pins.

"Thanks for all your help Sarah!" I exclaim as I leave the store.

* * *

It's ten thirty: I hear my parents getting ready to go to bed and as they do that, I'm contouring my face to give me cheekbones like the chick on the youtube tutorial. I continue getting ready as my heart pounds in my chest in excitement. It's happening. It's really happening. If I get the job, I can make five hundred dollars per night. Let's say I work four nights a week, I can then make two thousand dollars per week until I'm done high school in a year and a half, I would leave South Park with one hundred and fifty-six thousand dollars!

I feel myself smile as I realize it may be less than what my father makes, but I won't pay a dime in taxes on it. I chuckle to myself as I put on the last touch of blush to my cheeks. I think I actually like wearing make-up.

As for sneaking out of here, what I'll do is very simple: I'll sneak out of my bedroom window wearing my stockings underneath some track pants. I'll have the boots, the dress, the jewelry and the wig in a backpack: I am too scared or ripping or otherwise damage any of the items. I will then go change behind the shed. My wig and the jewelry will be the last things I'll put on at a twenty four hours coffee shop that's on the way to Vatican, and yes, I applied there too.

It's eleven o'clock. It's time to go.

It's either make or break at this point.


	3. Panic Station

This is where stuff starts getting interesting.

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxox

* * *

I made it to NoDoNoPa. My outfit is complete as I walk out the coffee shop. As I walk closer to Vatican, I see the neon sign grow bigger and bigger. My heart is pounding in my chest and I have this sudden feeling that I need to take a major dump. I know it's stage fright: I get like this every time I have to give a presentation at school. But this is huge. This could earn me over a hundred thousand dollars by the time I graduate. That's more than enough to travel to a bunch of places once I'll be done with high school.

I finally stand before the place that would make the difference between a dream and a nightmare. If I get hired, I'll leave South Park with enough money to last me years. If I ask my cousin Kyle to invest it, I'll be set for even longer. Sorry, it's a Jew thing.

I am greeted by a tall and bulky blond dude carrying a paper pad and a pen. A walkie-talkie is clipped to his belt. He surely is a bouncer and his nametag read Mike.

"Are you on the guest list?" He asks me.

"I have an interview with Mr. Paolucci." I nervously reply with a my girly voice.

"What's your name?" He asks as he flips through his list.

"Ivy" I reply as sensually as I could. Please don't judge me: I need this job.

Mike looks at me from head to toe a couple of times with a smirk on his face while grabbing the walkie-talkie from his belt and bringing it close to his mouth.

"Boss, the new girl is here." He says while pressing the button.

"Thank you, Mike." I say with a smile on my face.

"No problem sweetie. The boss is going to love what he sees." He says as he winks at me.

Mike is fucking hot, but that last comment was a little too creepy for my liking. I giggle nervously when an older man with big bifocal glasses, I'd say in his mid-fifties, comes out of the door. Whatever hair he has left is mostly white and he's wearing a grey suit with a shiny pink shirt. A handkerchief of the same colour and material as his shirt sticks out of front pocket of his Jacket. He looks at me from head to toe before extending his hand out to me.

"Eevee, right? Hallo, my name is-a Tony Paolucci. Nice to met ya." He says with his thick Italian accent.

"The pleasure is mine Mr. Paolucci" I say as I shake his hand.

"Pleasa, call me Tony! Come ina! Come ina!"

He leads me in and shows me around. The place is divided into two sections: the ground level is the lounge and upstairs is the night club.

The lounge is decorated tastefully with black and white photographs as well as abstract paintings on the rich brown walls that complement the mahogany furniture. There are rows of booths along the wall and small tables with chairs in the middle of the room. At the center of each table, there's a candle and a tiny little vase containing a single red rose. The burgundy upholstery on the chairs and booths together with the dim lighting make the place very welcoming. The back wall is a giant mirror and along it, a huge, magnificent mahogany bar with velvet burgundy stools stands out. The bar is complete with many racks placed on top of it holding glasses of all shapes and sizes upside down by the foot. The bottles of alcohol are separated by type and are placed on shelves along the mirror wall. A small stage is set up in front of the wall opposite to the bar near the entrance with a microphone and a podium. Luscious burgundy velvet drapes and crystal chandeliers emitting dim light make the room complete. Both the patrons and the staff are all extremely well dressed. This is probably the classiest place I've ever seen in my life.

The night club section on the second floor was not as refined as the lounge. There is a small black bar along each wall of the room, except along the wall with the entrance. It seems roomier, but then again, there are only four booths and a few high tables close to each bar. There's a huge delimited circle in the middle of the room with the Vatican logo: It's a spinning dance floor. The black walls are carpeted and the windows are fully covered by thick black drapes. Despite the fact that the ceiling is covered with white Christmas lights, this room is much darker and much louder than the lounge. The patrons in this room are dressed a little more casually than downstairs, but the female staff members are dressed in more revealing clothes.

I hope I end up working in the lounge: not only is it nicer, but I can't pull off wearing revealing clothing without shaving my chest. Shaving my chest on top my armpits and legs would just suck.

After the tour, Tony and I make our way to his office which is located on the ground floor, right across from the staircase.

He explains that the club is only opened Thursday to Saturday. On the other end, the lounge is opened is opened Wednesday to Sunday. The shot girl shift is from eleven thirty to three in the morning. The job consisted of walking around with a belt that holds two liquor bottles and a tray with glasses and ask the patrons if they want to buy a shot. If I sell a lot of bottles, I get a spiff: Tony says that the more booze I sell in a week, the bigger the reward: it could be extra cash, jewelry, clothes and even "more exotic things"... I wonder what he means by that. He also adds that if someone buys me a shot, I am obliged to drink it with them and I am to engage in light conversation with the patron, but I am not allowed to give someone a free drink. If I do, I have to pay from my pocket.

He continues by saying that he was looking for someone to work in the lounge. That was just what I wanted to hear. He adds that the lounge has different themes every night.

Wednesday is ladies night: ladies get a fifty percent discount on their drinks and both the staff and female patrons get a goody bag filled with cosmetic samples or gift vouchers.

Apparently, ladies night is the busiest night of the week: a lot of women come in for the perks, and a bunch of men go there for the women. Everyone wins. Vatican also makes money from the sponsors who provide the goodies.

Thursday is karaoke night: the shot girls each sing a song. The Patrons then vote for the winner and then bid money to spend the rest of the night with her. That shot girl will be relieved from her shift, but gets to take home seventy-five percent of the money that was bid on her.

What? Wait! We are Thursday night! Please don't make me sing yet...

Friday is dancing night: they move the tables and create a dance floor as a DJ rocks music and the shot girls perform a little dance. As in karaoke night, patrons get to vote for a shot girl and then bid. Once the winner is selected, the highest bidder buys a shot girl. She was relieved from her shift, but had to share at least once dance from the bidder, and spend the rest of the night with them. Once again, she would take home seventy-five percent of the pool.

Saturday night is band night: Patrons were charged a fee at the door and the entertainment was provided by a live band. The band would select a shot girl to be at their disposition. If you are chose, you make a thousand dollars automatically plus whatever tip the bad gives you.

Sunday is improvisation night: the staff was divided in two teams: The red and the blue. Each team is given a topic and has to improvise a skit. Patrons would vote by waving a blue or red card according to which skit they preferred. The members of the winning team would get a prize of their choice from a preset list.

Holy crap! I'm going to be rich! These are awesome perks.

"Thank you very much for this opportunity Tony. I won't disappoint you."

"No! thanka you Eevee. Now go to da Lounge and go see da barmaid: her name is Lola. She'll get ya started. Don't forget to pick a song from da list. It'sa karaoke night."

Crap! He's going to make me sing.

* * *

I am greeted by a gorgeous raven haired girl once I get to the bar. She is a carbon copy to Uma Thurman in pulp fiction. She wears a short, skin tight black dress with long sleeves and a pair of black varnished stilettos. She is honestly the best looking girl I've ever seen in my life. If I were straight, I'd totally have a boner for her. Her face seems to be sculpted in marble: she has large hazel eyes and her skin is milky white. She's also the thinnest girl I've ever met.

"Hi! Welcome to Vatican. You must be the new girl!"

"Hi. Yes! My name is Ivy, are you Lola?"

"No, Lola is over there." She points at a girl mixing drinks behind the bar.

"My name is Mia. It's a pleasure to meet you. You'll see, this place is great." She adds with a smile, extending her hand which I shake.

"Likewise."

I walk over to Lola. She's a curvy platinum blond with shoulder length curls and piercing blue eyes. The red dress she wears is so revealing that I'm expecting her tits to jump in my face any second now. She looks in my direction and introduces herself.

"Hi! I'm Lola. You're Eevee, right?" she asks.

"Uh, it's actually Ivy. It's nice to meet you Lola."

She giggles.

"I'm sorry Ivy. I should have known: the old man has the thickest accent I've ever heard. Listen, let me finish this order and I'll give you the run down. It's simple, really. Did you pick your song? The list and sign up sheet are on the podium, on the stage. Go pick your song and then come back, OK?"

I nod and make my way to the stage. I look around myself and see that the place is getting crowded. I stand behind the podium and look at the list. I will need to take a picture of it so I can learn some of these: If I get the highest bids, I could make a shit ton of money. Right now, the only song I know well enough on this list is _Take a bow_ by Madonna. It's my mom's favourite song, so I've heard it a million times. I check the sign up sheet and no one took it. I write down my selection and start making my way back to the bar when I spot him.

Eric Theodore Cartman.

My blood freezes in my veins and I feel a sudden rush of nausea. What the fuck is the fat ass Nazi doing here? He's sitting at one of the small tables and is staring at me with wide eyes. He looks like he just saw a ghost. Our eyes meet. Fuck! He probably recognized me! I feel a rush of blood to my cheeks, hell, to my whole face. I am so screwed! I break the staring contest by glancing towards the entrance but I know damn well that making a run for it would be futile. I just want to crawl in a hole and die.

"Eevee! Coma! I want you to meeta someone" It's Tony Paolucci.

I snap out of it. Tony is signalling me to follow him. I comply, forcing my body to move. He walks over to none other than Cartman's table. My heart is pounding hard in my chest and my palms are becoming sweaty. Cartman looks at me with a smirk.

"Well I'll be damned Paolucci! I know you only went for the pretty ones, but this time you've clearly outdone yourself." Cartman says, raising an eyebrow and nodding. His voice is the most sensual thing I've ever heard.

What the fuck did I just listen to? He turns his head towards me.

"My name is Eric Cartman. What's your name?" He adds, his hazel eyes staring into my own.

He extends his hand to me.

"I'm Ivy."

I extend my hand to his, expecting a handshake. Instead he takes it and brings it to his mouth while staring at me dead in the eyes. My ears are ringing and I suddenly feel burning hot as a million butterflies swarm my stomach. That took my breath away.

"I'm charmed." He says, slowly releasing my hand, his voice even more sensual than before.

He looks so hot.

What the fuck did I just think?

"Uh, likewise Mr. Cartman. Excuse me: Lola is waiting for me at the bar." I force myself to say.

"Well, I'll see you around Ivy. Oh, and please call me Eric." He replies.

I walk over to the bar as quickly as I can. What the fuck just happened? Logically, it could be one of two things: Cartman had recognized me and would blackmail the shit out of me or he didn't recognize me and was being polite or something. I quickly glance back: Cartman is whispering something into my boss' ear. On the inside, I am shaking.

* * *

As I arrive behind the bar I see the whole staff including Lola and Mia is there waiting for me and Lola looks at me with a wide grin. She is holding the belt that carries the bottles. I notice Mia is wearing a belt: she must also be a shotgirl

"Alright, let's get you set up and give you the run down. Your two bottles will be Glenfiddich 12 years and Gray Goose for tonight. You will go from table to table and ask the customers if they'd like to buy a shot. The scotch is ten dollars a pop and the vodka is 7 dollars. Clients are not allowed to touch you inappropriately: if someone creeps you out, you go to Mike or Tony right away and they'll take care of it."

She straps the belt around me and puts in the two bottles.

"The fanny pack between your bottles contains a hundred and fifty dollars in small bills and change. The second one of your bottles is empty or you run out of change, you come to me and I'll help you out. Girls, introduce yourselves to Ivy. I have drinks to mix."

Lola walks away and another girl with long brown hair and eyes walks up to me and starts hugging me. She's the lovey dovey type, it shows right away.

"Hi sugar. I'm Ashley. I've been a waitress here for three years now. I'm so looking forward to work with you and to know you better. You'll see, this place rocks."

The second girl that comes up to greet me has a blond asymmetrical haircut and dark blue eyes. She is wearing a sheer dress with black shorts that hide her underwear, but you can clearly see the black silky bra underneath the dress.

"Hi! I'm Chastity and I'm a shot girl like you. If you ever need any help, don't be afraid to ask." She says extending her hand to shake mine.

The next girl that greets me is another brunette with brown eyes rocking a pixie cut. She kind of looks like Emma Watson. She grabs my two hands and pulls me in, planting kisses on both my cheeks.

"Welcome to Vatican, gorgeous. My name is Christa. I'm also a shot girl. I have a feeling you will fit right in, hun." She says, still holding my hands.

As Christa releases me hand, a familiar face shows up. It's Mia and she is wearing a belt too: she must be another shot girl. he pulls me in for a hug.

"I know we already introduced ourselves, but I wanted to wish you the best of luck, Ivy."

The last girl that walks up has orange hair, blue eyes and a bunch of freckles. She's actually really cute. She's a full fledged ginger. Unlike the other ones, she isn't smiling at all and she looks irritated.

"I'm Annie. I'm a shot girl." She says, looking the other way.

"Excuse me?" I reply, clearly phased by her rudeness.

"Alright ladies, are you ready?" Ashley let's out, disregarding Annie's rudeness.

"Yeah!" They all reply in unison, clearly not noticing my silence.

"Let's get this party started!" Ashley exclaimed, raising her hands into the air.

* * *

Stay tuned for the Karaoke competition.


	4. Take a bow

Hi everyone!

I just want to take the time to thank my reviewers and followers. You guys rock!

Enjoy!

xoxoxoxClotgirlxoxoxox

* * *

Upon my arrival at the bar, Lola walks over to me and hands me a round tray. She informs me that various clean glasses are already on the tables and that Ashley will replenish them throughout the night. I just had to pick up the dirty ones and bring them back here. She tells me that Ashley will be up on stage in about an hour and to pay attention in case it's my turn to sing.

So I start walking around and ask people if they want to buy vodka or scotch from me. I decide to start by the booths and to do the tables later. It's actually so easy to sell shots: I just finished going to every booth and I must have close to two hundred dollars worth of tips as far as I counted. Now, time to take care of the tables.

I eventually get close to Cartman's table and notice him chatting with a smitten looking Annie. I guess fat ass likes gingers now all of a sudden, who would have guessed? I don't trust that girl to be honest: I don't understand why she was so rude to me. I'm also irritated at the fact that she's talking to him and I don't know why, but it just pisses me off. Unless... Wow! This is not funny.

I think I have a crush on my nemesis. Why else would I feel like this? For fucks sake, he kissed my hand and he was so sensual... It felt fucking amazing, and that Annie chick is way too close to him for my liking. I'm jealous of her and I will make her back off from my Nazi.

I know just how to get her away from him. It's time to put on some big girl pants.

I make my way to his table, swaying my hips and biting my bottom lip. He notices me and I can see him take his eyes off that Annie girl and rest them on me instead. I arrive at my destination and put my tray down on the table, sort of moving Annie out of the way by scooping her with my ass. I notice the glasses on his table are all clean, which means Annie didn't even sell him anything: it puts a devious smile on my lips.

"Hi Eric, would you like some scotch or some vodka?" I ask him as sensually as I could.

He smiles at me, never breaking his gaze.

"Why yes Ivy, I would very much like to have some scotch and I would love you to have some with me." He says, briefly resting a hand on mine while grabbing his wallet from his pocket with the other one. He pulls out a fifty and puts it on the table.

I search my fanny pack for change but I get interrupted by Cartman's hand again.

"Please keep the change." He says as his golden sparks dance in his eyes.

Those God damned eyes! This God damned boy! Since when is he so nice? When did he suddenly become the most handsome guy on Earth? Maybe the fact that he is extremely well dressed had a role to play, but my chest seemed to catch fire whenever these mysterious hazel irises met my gaze, almost piercing my soul.

He then turns towards Annie, and shoos her away.

"Don't you have work to do or something?" He adds.

Annie gives me the death stare. I pour our drinks and Cartman signals me to take the seat across from his to which I duly comply. Cartman grabs his glass and lifts it.

"A toast to the annoying ginger leaving. Thanks, I owe you one!" He says as he clinks his glass to mine.

He was actually pleasant to hang out with. I can't get over how attracted I am to him right now. He usually dresses like a bum at school, and right now I witness how stylish is truly is: he is wearing a red and slightly shimmery trim cut shirt, a dark brown suede blazer, dark slim fit jeans and brown loafers.

"To first times." I add, taking a sip.

This shit is vile and I almost choke. As I start coughing, I see the fat ass burst in laughter. As my coughing subsides, I just glare at him. He may have acted nice earlier, but I see now that his still the ass hole I've known my whole life. His laughter subsides and he gives me that weird look again.

"What?" I ask him with a hint of irritation in my voice.

"Ivy, I meant no disrespect. I just thought of something awesome, that's all." He says "I know that you can't leave my table until your drink is finished and I thought it would be awesome to have you to myself all night long." He adds looking down to his lap.

My heart skips a beat. I feel the familiar burn on my cheeks as they turn red and the butterflies are back in my stomach. That's the nicest thing he has ever said to me. But he thinks I'm Ivy. It's like Ivy has him wrapped around her finger. This could be really bad if he ever finds out the truth: he'd certainly kill me.

"So, why would you want to spend the night with me?" I ask him with another wild smile on my face as I pick up my glass and bring it to my lips again.

"You just remind me of someone I really care for." He replies, taking his eyes off of the table and resting them on mine.

I take a sip without choking: I actually like the taste of it this time around. I like the way it burns as it goes down.

"Who is she?" I ask him, my voice raspier than my normal falsetto.

I feel jealousy sting me in the guts again. I take another sip.

"He's everything to me." He replies.

I almost spit the scotch out of my mouth. Was Cartman admitting he was gay? Sure, he never showed interest in girls since the fourth grade, but Cartman? Gay? Really? Although judging by the way he looks at Ivy, he's probably bisexual.

"You heard right" he adds with a smile "You're the first girl who ever made me feel this way."

Ok. This is fucked up. At this point, I know for fact that he didn't recognize me. He would never admit to me that he is gay. I start thinking of which boy he's making a reference to. I want to know more. I take another sip.

"Alright, who is he? What's his name" I ask him as a twirl the few drops still left in my glass of scotch.

He looks at me incredulously. He then lowers his eyes down to the table again.

"I've known him all my life, and he hates me. I'm not a good person, Ivy. I torment him all the time and I totally understand why he hates me the way he does." He says sounding a hundred percent sincere.

Is he talking about me? If it is me he's referring too, it would be the funniest and most fucked up thing I've ever heard: a Nazi in love with a Jew. But I realize I'm no better because I'm a Jew with a growing crush on a Nazi, which is worst. This is the most fucked up situation I've ever been in. Unless he actually figured it out and he's just toying with me, but I think that's unlikely.

I quickly gulp the meagre remains of my drink.

"Why do you do it then?" I ask.

Cartman is about to reply when we hear a voice on the microphone: it's Ashley. Everyone in the room, the two of us included, turn our attention to her. This is my queue to get ready. As I grab the empty glasses on the table, Cartman rests his hand on mine for the third time.

"Because I love him." He says as his golden eyes penetrated mine.

His words take my breath away. He is talking about me. He torments me because he loves me. He wants my attention and he knows that whenever he does something bad or reckless, he gets it. It all makes sense now.

* * *

"Good night everyone! Welcome to Vatican!" Ashley says as everyone cheers.

"For the first timers out here, you probably noticed the coloured cards on your tables: each card represents one of our lovely shot girls. They will all sing a song for you. Once all of them will be done singing, there will be a vote for tonight's favourite. Once she is chosen, you will be able to bid on her. The winner will have the privilege of spending the rest of the night with her." She adds while patrons clap and howl.

"Represented by the black card, give it up for Chastity who will sing _E.T_ by Katy Perry" She concludes as she claps and gets off the stage.

Chastity then walks on stage as the music starts playing and she starts singing.

I'm impressed! Chastity totally mails her song. As she bows, the crowd is going crazy for her.

I had picked up the empty glasses and had brought them back to the bar, leaving Cartman behind. I couldn't stop thinking about what he said. This is so messed up: what is he doing here? How is he so close to Tony?

Lola took my belt along with my two bottles and told me to wait until I was called to the stage, so I get to enjoy the show for a bit. I sat at a bar stool, facing the stage. I feel a little nervous because Chastity knows how to move her body while I have no coordination. Which reminds me that tomorrow is dancing night. Shit!

Ashley walks back to the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that was Chastity represented by the black card. Up next, represented by the red card, Annie will sing _one way or another_ by Blondie. Give it up for her!"

The crowd cheers once again.

Annie may be a total bitch, but her voice is fantastic. She doesn't dance as well as Chastity, but with a voice like hers, who cares about how well you dance. She stares at Cartman during her entire performance. I wish I could see his reaction.

Mia comes to sit next to me and taps me on the shoulder.

"I saw the way the Eric and you were staring at each other: the attraction between the two of you were palpable. Why do you think Annie flipped?" She starts as she pats me on the shoulder and gives me a wide grin.

"It sucks for Annie, but he never showed any interest in her. Don't skip an opportunity at being happy because of what other people think: that would be dumb." She continues as she smiles at me.

"She's jealous, you know. She has tried to hook up with Eric many times and was always shut down. He seems to really appreciate you. Go for it, girl!" She concluded nodding her head in a sign of approval.

I had guessed right. I look at her and smile.

Annie's song finishes and Ashley is back on the stage.

"That was Annie, represented by the red card. Mia, represented by the white card, is up next and will sing us _girl, you'll be a woman soon_ by Urge Overkill. Give her some love!"

"Well, looks like it's my turn." Mia says getting up.

As she makes her way on stage, the crowd claps and howls.

She is so hot and sensual. I bet anything that she's going to win. I'm really nervous now. Her voice is good and she looks stunning. On top of it, she totally picked the right song for herself.

As she finishes her song and bows, the crowd goes wild. Ashley walks back on stage.

"Represented by the white card, that was Mia! Next, Christa will sing _I will survive_ by Gloria Gaynor. She is represented by the blue card. Everyone, give it up for her!"

The crowd cheers once more as Christa walks on stage and starts singing. Out of all the girls so far, she is the one with the dullest voice, but she dances like a queen. She makes Chastity look like a bitch! She finishes her song and walks off stage as Ashley comes back on. I realize it's going to be my turn. God help me.

"That was Christa represented by the blue card! Our last but not least contestant is represented by the green card and will sing _take a bow_ by Madonna. Tonight is her first night amongst the sisters of Vatican. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give Ivy a proper welcome."

The crowd cheers as I get closer to the stage. My heart is pounding. I feel like I need to take a massive shit. Yes, the stage fright is back. The scotch made my knees a little weak and is really not helping my case. As I walk on stage, Ashley hands me the microphone. I look at the crowd. I look at Cartman who is staring at me with a slanted smile. As the music starts playing, the crowd claps.

I know I can't dance for my life, so I stand in front of the podium and start swaying my body sensually. I notice Cartman's smile grow bigger and that makes me happy. Tonight, I will sing for him.

 _Take a bow, the night is over._

I sing with the sexiest voice I can emit. I am in front of the podium basically rubbing my ass against it, rocking the microphone stand. My eyes are resting on Cartman and he stares at me with his jaw dropped. A little more, and he's practically drooling.

 _Make them laugh, it comes so easy._

I see Cartman reach for the green card. Take that Annie! I keep swaying sensually and waving at the crowd. I hear a bunch of guys in the back howl as I sing.

 _All the world is a stage and everyone has their part._

 _But how was I supposed to know which the story'd go._

 _How was I to know you'd break my heart._

I placed my hand on my forehead and arched my back as much as I could over the podium for that last passage. I hear the crowd howling and whistling. I slowly straighten my back to go back to a vertical position, resuming my gaze towards my nemesis.

 _I've always been in love with you._

 _I guess you've always known._

At that point, I blow out a kiss in Cartman's direction. I he's as turned on as me.

 _You took my love for granted why? Oh, why?_

 _The show is over, say goodbye._

 _Say goodbye_

* * *

As I deliver the last lyrics from the song, the crowd becomes hysterical. I can hear them chant _Ivy! Ivy! Ivy!_ Holy shit! I nailed it!

Ashley walks back on the stage and I hand her the microphone before heading back to the bar.

"Ladies and gentlemen, that was Ivy represented by the green card. I hope you enjoyed the entertainment. It's time to vote. Here's the recap: Chastity, the black card, with _E.T_ by Katy Perry. Annie, the red card, with _one way or another_ by Blondie. Mia, the white card, with _girl, you'll be a woman soon_ by Urge Overkill. Christa, the blue card, with _I will survive_ by Gloria Gaynor and Ivy, the green card, with _take a bow_ by Madonna. Ladies and gentlemen, cast you vote!"

All the patrons hold up their cards. I can't believe it: there were a few black and blue cards, but people mostly voted for Mia, Annie and me. But I had a more than the two of them combined. Holy crap! I win on my first night!

"And the winner is Ivy! Ivy, come back up here! Congratulations, girl! Let the bidding commence."

As I make my way back to the stage, I hear patrons bidding for my company. The first offer was a hundred dollars and by the time I step on the stage, it's at a thousand bucks. These people are nuts if you ask me: who the heck blows that much money on a shot girl?

"Two thousand" Cartman says.

Huh? I look over, and he has a stack of bills in his hands. Where the heck did Cartman get two grand?

The bid rises to five thousand. It's between Cartman and an old pervy looking dude.

"Six thousand" Cartman says again, holding cash in his hand.

How does he have so much money and where does it come from?

The crowd goes silent.

"Six thousand once, six thousand twice, six thousand trice. Congratulations! You may come get her"

Cartman gets up with a grin, a big stack of cash in his hands and walks over to the stage. He hands the money to Ashley and then turns to me and grabs my hand. Butterflies swarm in my stomach once again. He looks at me dead in the eyes once more as he takes my hand to his lips and plants another kiss on them. The butterflies intensify. The crowd cheers, except for probably the old pervert and Annie: maybe the two of them will hook up. That thought makes me chuckle. Without breaking our gaze, he picks me up bridal style and makes his way back to his table.

What the fuck is going on? This isn't right: we're supposed to hate each other, but right now I'd do anything to actually kiss him. I can't stop looking at his eyes: I am completely hypnotized by the gold flakes dancing in them. He brings me to his table and delicately sits me down across from his chair. As nervous as I feel, I am enjoying every single second of this. He takes his seat and raises his hand. Ashley spots us and quickly makes her way to us.

"Congratulations to the two of you. What can I get you? This one is on the house." She exclaimed with a wide smile.

"It'll be another Glenfiddick twelve for me please" Cartman orders.

"Same here please" I reply, looking at Ashley's super sized smile as she leans in to whisper something to me.

"He really likes you. Have fun, hun!"

She then takes her leave towards the bar, looking back at us and giving us thumbs up.

"What did she say to you?" Cartman enquires as he raises an eyebrow.

"Something about you liking me." I respond in a honey voice, raising an eyebrow too.

"I said I owed you one, didn't I?" He replies dryly.

"Huh?" I don't get it. My heart sinks.

"When you came up before and made that dumb ginger bitch leave, I told you I owed you one. We are even now." He says with the same dry tone he used before.

"There you go." That was Ashley putting our drinks before us as Cartman pulls ten bucks out of his wallet to tip her.

As she takes the bills, she looks at me and winks.

Fuck off Cartman! I was so happy moments ago. I raise my glass to him: if he's going to be an ass, I'll be a bitch.

"To that guy you have a crush on!" I say sarcastically as I clink my glass to his.

I look at him. He gives me another slanted smile and puts his glass to his lips. I do the same. We stare at each other as we sip on our drinks.

"Dear God you're just like him! So damn sneaky." He finally says his eyes narrowing on mine.

I bring the glass back to my lips. He does the same. We've been staring at each other for so long that my eyes start to hurt from the lack of blinking. What the fuck am I doing?

"So, does that guy have a name?" I ask him, finally breaking the most intense staring contest I've ever experience is my life.

"Enough about him: I paid to spend time with you, not with a FBI agent." He replies taking my hand and squeezing it.

Alright, that was fair enough: he did pay over six thousand dollars on me. I still think that whole being even thing is bullshit though. To spend that much money, he must really fucking like Ivy, but then again he admitted to me that he has a crush on some dude I remind him of.

"What about never having felt this way about a girl?" I ask, truly curious.

"What I meant is that I want to bend you over this table and fuck you until you can't walk anymore." He replies as he takes his glass to his lips once again.

"What?" I gasp.

That would be so hot. I imagine my nemesis pressing my head against the table as he pounds the living hell out of my tight little ass. My underwear feel tighter all of a sudden. I'm going to need a cold shower.

"You heard me, Ivy: I want to bend you over this table and fuck you until your legs give out. I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs" He says, as he twirls whatever little scotch is left in his glass with a raised eyebrow, a slanted smile and his eyes staring deep into mine.

My eyes grow wider and my dick grows bigger. Good thing I'm sitting down: I have a raging hard on while I'm staring into the golden eyes of my nemesis turned crush.

"Do you want to do the same thing to that special guy of yours?" I ask with tremor in my voice.

"God damn it Ivy! You ask way too many questions." He says as he polishes off his drink and slams his glass down.

* * *

Here it is!

Reviews are welcome, as usual.


	5. I'm a monster

Hi everyone!

I apologize for the delay: it's been a rough week.

This chapter is titled after _I'm a monster_ by Ours. I find that this song nails Eric Cartman's personality.

I hope you enjoy it.

Reviews are welcomed, as usual.

* * *

My name is Eric Cartman. I'm a sixteen year old boy with all the wrong qualities you can think of: I'm a racist, sexist prick with a fowl mouth that would go out of his way just for the sake of offending and hurting someone. Somehow, I thrive on making people squirm. I'm the last person anyone sane could love.

My mom did what she had to do in order to provide for me: she sold her body to various men from around town. I've never told my friends, but most of their dads paid for her services at some point. Sometimes, she would bring clients home and I would hear everything. That solidly messed me up when I was a kid. What messed me up even more was when she admitted to me that she was smoking crack back when I was twelve. I know damn well that she couldn't stomach what she was doing anymore and I knew it was in part my fault. If she didn't have me, she would have probably found a decent man to marry and would have had a happy and normal life. For the first time in my life, I had wished to never be born. The time I caught a client beating her was the second. I would have done anything to make her stop. She hasn't been home lately, which sucks. I miss her and go visit her whenever I can, but every time I say goodbye to her, it just breaks my heart.

I have felt lonely my entire life. As a child, my peers would mock me because I was fat, my mom was a whore and I didn't have a dad. That made me mean. Really mean. If I start listing all the felonies I've committed in my life, it would take me hours so instead know this: a kid named Scott Tenorman fucked me over and I got my revenge by grinding up his parents into chili and tricked him into eating it. It turned out that Scott and I had much more in common than I thought: we had the same father.

I think that's what triggered everything. For the record, I don't feel bad about killing my own father. That ass hole cheated on his wife, knocked up my mom and walked away without ever providing us with any support; a true dead beat that was incapable of taking responsibility for his actions and showed no remorse about what he did. I'd do it all over again.

Other than my mother, there is only one person I truly care about in this world, I'll take a moment to tell you a little more about the type of relationship I have with meine liebe:

The two of us have known each other since forever. What had started out as a rivalry evolved into a love-hate relationship, at least from my perspective. As much as I find Kyle infuriating and just want to kick his ass, I also want to protect him from any harm. I have saved his life on several occasions, as he saved mine in others. We are the Ying and the Yang, fire and ice, the two sides of the same coin. I love him with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Kyle is very fragile and delicate. The only reason he's still alive is that one of my kidneys is inside him. When the whole transplant ordeal happened, I was pissed off beyond belief: I didn't want him to get my kidney. I was an angry child and didn't know any better. Nowadays, I'd take a bullet for him. I'd give my life for his. The world needs more people like him and less people like me.

And then, there's her: she's still a mystery to me. I'm not sure if what I feel for her is love, lust or curiosity.

I figured out I was gay when I was really young. My mom's profession disgusted me to the point where I found all girls repulsive. Until tonight, that is. I met my business partner at Vatican. I don't normally stay longer than necessary since I think their little theme nights are super kitsch and although most of the girls are pretty chill to hang out with, this bitch Annie won't take the fucking hint that she is the most annoying ginger on the planet.

I took a seat at a small table and patiently waited for Tony to show up to talk business. That's when I saw her behind the podium: the most beautiful girl I have ever set my eyes on. She had long wavy red hair and pale skin. Her green eyes sparkled like huge emeralds and her lips looked so delicious that I just wanted to take a bite out of them. I couldn't help but think that if the Jew had a sister, she'd look just like that. Their resemblance was uncanny. When we locked eyes, a shock shot up my spine: she was truly breathtaking.

Paolucci brought her over to my table and she introduced herself as Ivy, which was hilarious because she did look like Poison Ivy from Batman. She looked quite bashful during our introduction. Don't get me wrong: I felt nervous too, but I had learned to hide it.

When she took her leave, Tony and I talked about business. He instructed me on my next pick-ups and deliveries. He also informed me that I'd have to make a trip to Denver on Saturday, which was fine by me: I wanted to go visit my mom anyways. I was doing this for her after all. Paolucci then bid me good night and went back into his office.

After spotting Ivy bending over to pick up a napkin that she had dropped, I had decided to stay a little longer. I had in mind to buy her a shot and spend a little bit of time with her. She ended up being a talented singer and won the karaoke contest. She looked so God damn hot on that stage that she gave me a hard on. I bid the highest on her and she was forced to spend the rest of the night with me. I highly doubt she minded though: when I carried her in my arms from the stage to my table we stared deeply into each other's eyes, our faces mere inches away. She seemed to like it as much as I did. She just turned me on so much.

* * *

"You heard me, Ivy: I want to bend you over this table and fuck you until your legs give out. I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs" I repeat twirling whatever scotch is left in my glass.

The expression on her face is priceless. She is sitting there with her emerald eyes and her mouth wide open and her cheeks are turning scarlet red. I notice that she's breathing heavily. She is such a lovely sight. I conclude that I enjoy tormenting her and Kyle equally. That and she is giving me a raging hard on.

"Do you want to do the same thing to that special guy of yours?" She asks me with a trembling voice.

Oh, the sweet voice of a confused soul! It's like my ears are having an orgasm, but I hate the fact that she's so nosey about meine liebe and she needs to be put back in her place.

"God damn it woman! You ask way too many questions!" I exclaim, slamming down my now empty glass.

She seems startled by my outburst. Good, very good. I got her exactly where I want her: helpless and submissive.

"I... I'm sorry Eric. It's none of my business." She finally answers, looking down at her lap.

"Hey there, lovebirds! Would you like some bourbon or some tequila? It's on the house"

I turn my head and see it's Mia. She was always my favourite shot girl, well before tonight: Ivy just knocked her down in second place. Mia is really chill and no one messes with her. I remember a few weeks ago, some dude grabbed her ass and she just turned around and beat the crap out of him. Mike and I still laugh about it.

"I'll have four shots of bourbon please. And I would prefer paying for my drinks." Ivy says.

What? Did Ivy just order four shots of bourbon to herself? I was not expecting Ivy to be much of a drinker. This girl is just full of surprises.

"How about I charge you only for two of them? I do wish to get you guys a drink. The two of you looked adorable on stage." Mia replies winking at Ivy.

"We have a deal!" Ivy replies with a smile.

Mia pours the shots, grabs her money from Ivy and goes on to the next table. Is Ivy planning to get hammered? I watch as ivy places two of the shots in front of me: now it all makes sense.

"Are we even?" She asks me with a sinister look in her face.

"Well played. You are one heck of a woman, you know that Poison Ivy?" I state slyly as I see her smirking at my pet name for her.

I take the one of the shots and raise it towards Ivy. She does the same and we clink our glasses.

"To us." She says, lifting her glass and dipping her emerald eyes into mine.

"To us." I reply, doing the same.

We down the shot, and before I even have time to put down my empty glass, Ivy is already done her second one. My Poison Ivy wants to get drunk tonight. That's fine by me.

"So, I've never seen you around in Park County. Did you just move here?" I ask her out of curiosity.

"I've lived here my whole life." She answers simply, no hint of emotion in her voice.

"That's impossible: I would have noticed you by now, trust me. Did your parents keep you locked up or something?" I said chuckling.

"God damn it dude! You ask way too many questions!" She says slamming her hand on the table as a devious smile appears on her face, her emerald eyes piercing mine.

I need a moment to process what just happened. Did she just catch me off guard? All I can do is stare at her with eyes wide opened and a dropped jaw. I didn't expect her to be this feisty. This is the type of shit I expect the Jew to do.

"My! That was sneaky... too sneaky." I say rubbing my chin with my thumb and index finger. "What are you, a Jew?" I blurt out without thinking.

Now why the fuck did I say that for? Ivy looked so shocked that her eyes were almost popping out of her head. Her face turned white. As she bowed her head, she brought her both her hands up to her face, hiding it away from me. If she is Jewish, I just blew my chances with her. She was breathing heavily and slightly trembling. Holy crap! She must be Jewish for real. She slides her hands down her face just enough so I could see her tear filled emerald eyes. I feel a knot forming in my throat.

"I... I am so sor..." I try to apologize.

Ivy bursts into laughter. Full-fledged laughter with her holding her stomach, leaning in a bit all made complete by small tears streaming from her eyes. I am so confused right now.

"Did… did I miss something?" I ask.

"I... I... I can't..." She replies as her laughter intensifies.

I stared at her for almost three minutes as she laughed her ass off for some odd reason. She tried to speak a few times, but would just end up laughing even harder. People are looking at us funny, but as far as I'm concerned, they can all suck my balls.

"Sorry! But, that was too funny!" She finally manages to reply, still somewhat giggling.

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least she has a better sense of humour than Kyle.

"It's just that I get that all the time. I guess I only attract fat sadistic Nazis." She adds, looking at me again with that wicked smile of hers and before bursting into uncontrollable laughter once again.

"Hai! I'm not fat you fucking Jew!" I say out of habit.

Her laughter intensifies to the point where she has trouble breathing. She tries to speak but is unable to once again. All I can do is stare at her in amazement and confusion. I am baffled by this power shift: I went from being in full control of the situation to Ivy holding me tightly by the balls. This is the third time in a row she takes me by surprise. Also, what's with this fat sadistic Nazi bullshit? That's something the Jew would say. She finally manages stops laughing.

"Oh, thank you Eric. I hadn't laughed like this in months. Thank you so much." She says softly with a wide grin on her flushed face.

"Not so fast Ivy: please explain the fat sadistic Nazi comment. Only one person ever called me that other than you." I enquire, narrowing my eyes on hers.

"Well, how did you conclude that I'm Jewish?" She says with her little sensual voice.

"Stop it with the counter-question bullshit and answer me." I sternly demand.

She stares at me for a bit prior to rolling her eyes as she taking a deep breath.

"Alright for starters, you compared me to a sneaky Jew which is a pejorative stereotype: that's where Nazi comes from. Secondly, despite your very gallant attitude towards me, I can tell you enjoy making me squirm in order to have the upper hand: that's where sadistic comes from. As for the fat part, it's a mere exaggeration of the fact you are so bloody bulky. It's not rocket science: I just used the same logic as you did when you decided that I'm Jew." She explains with a smirk.

I ponder upon her answer for a few seconds when I realize that it makes total sense. I must say that I admire her shrewdness. Jesus! This girl is perfect: she's hot, smart and witty! In that sense, she is just like me. I feel my pants tightening: this is the third time she makes me hard, and she hasn't even touched me. The more time I spend with her, the more I want to do dirty things to her.

"That makes a lot of sense actually. I should have known that you're this astute. I dig that." I reply sincerely

She smiles as she takes my hand in hers.

"Yeah, I can see that. I dig you too." She admits as she takes my hands to her mouth and softly kisses it with her perky pink lips.

* * *

I can't seem to snap out of it today: the lunch period was almost over and I barely ate anything or talked to anyone. All I can think of is a threesome with Ivy and the Jew. I'm at our usual table with Kyle and Kenny while Stan is off walking somewhere with Wendy. If I weren't so out of it, I'd be bored out of my mind. I don't even feel like picking on the Jew today. Kyle quickly chomped down his lunch and is now taking a nap; he's resting his head on his folded arms over the table. Kenny is looking at a porno magazine that is dissimulated in a history textbook and I just can't stop thinking about my little Poison Ivy. As I left the lounge, I gave her a sweet kiss on the forehead. That memory makes me feel all fuzzy inside. I want to go visit her tonight: it's the dance competition and hopefully she wins so I can be the highest bidder on her once again.

The first bell indicating that there are five minutes left before the beginning of class lets itself be heard. As I pick up my lunch tray to go empty it, I notice that the Jew hasn't moved an inch: this is odd as he's always the first one to get up. This is not normal. I go over to him and give him a nudge on the shoulder.

"Wake up Jew! It's time to go to class." I say.

He doesn't respond. I grab him by the shoulders and give him a light shake which makes him moan, but doesn't really wake him up. He looks really out of it. I look around myself and Kenny's long gone as everyone else is heading towards the hall way. I start to worry.

"Come on Khal! What the fuck is wrong with you?" I yell this time around.

"Cartman?" He murmurs, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Let's go Kyle! It's class time."

"Cartman, I forgot to take my insulin this morning. I think I left it at home." He mumbles, his eyes closing.

I grab his back pack and search the small front pocket where he normally keeps it and realize it's actually empty. Now, I start to panic. I pick him up in my arms, and carry him the same way I carried Ivy last night, only this is the exact opposite experience: it's scary as fuck! I rush him to the nurse's office and barge into the infirmary. The nurse turns around and gasps when she sees Kyle passing out in my arms.

"He forgot to take his insulin and it's at his house. If you call his mom so that she brings it in, it may be too late. I have my car today and I'm willing to take him home."

"I understand. Give me your names and I'll make sure to let administration know that your absence is justified. This is an actual emergency after all." She says nodding.

I give her the information she requested and thank her, then I turn around and run towards the exit door located near the student parking lot. As soon as my doors are unlocked, I put him in the passenger seat and buckle him up before getting in myself and start the engine.

"Cartman..." He murmurs.

My heart is pounding hard in my chest as I drive as fast as I can towards Kyle's house.

"You'll be OK Kyle, I swear I'll never let anything happen to you" I say with a shaky voice.

"I know..." He mumbles.

I made it to his house in ten minutes flat and park on the drive way. Without even turning off my car, I get out of the car and ring the doorbell like, twenty times. A very irritated Shiela Broflovski answers the door.

"What is the meaning of this, young man?" She asks brashly.

"Quick! Get Kyle's insulin. He's semi-conscious in my car. I'll carry him in, just please get his insulin." I beg hysterically.

Her eyes fly open and she runs towards the kitchen as I run back to my car and get meine liebe out of it.

"Eric..." He murmurs weakly.

Fuck! Seeing him like this shatters my heart.

"Here! Put him on couch. I have his injection ready." His mother shrieks when she hears my steps as I run in with her son in my arms.

I quickly comply with her request and watch her give him the injection. That's when my knees gave out and I realized that I was panting heavily and tears were streaming down my cheeks. Shiela then leaps towards me and hugs me so tightly that I become momentarily incapable of breathing.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You saved my Bubbe's life" She says as she loosens her hug and starts sobbing.

I look into her eyes and nod, tears still streaming from my cheeks. It's my turn to give her a hug.

"We were in the cafeteria and Kyle was resting his head down. I thought he was just tired, but when the bell rang, he didn't move and then he mumbled something about forgetting his insulin this morning and not bringing in to school." I explain to Shiela.

"Cartman? What are you doing in my house? Why aren't we at school?" Kyle says weakly.

I quickly wipe away my tears: I can't have him know I was crying over him.

"Bubbe, Eric just saved your life. What do I have to do so that you remember to take your insulin? We were so worried about you." His mother says as she runs towards him and hugs him.

"Well, my work here is done. Take care of yourself Khal!" I say turning around. I don't want Kyle to see me crying.

Screw going back to school. I just need to lie down: this whole ordeal exhausted me.

Kyle called me Eric earlier. He never does that.

* * *

Short, but sweet.

i hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review :)

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


	6. Temptation Waits

Hi everyone!

Here's chapter 6!

Reviews are always welcomed.

* * *

I feel like an idiot. I just spent the past half hour arguing with my mom because I forgot to take my insulin. She wanted to take me to the hospital at all costs, but I feel fine now and I really don't have any time to waste: I have to figure what song I'll dance to for my shift tonight. I also have to go rummage through the New Jersey box in my mom's closet: I have spotted some clothes that I could wear to work in there until I get a chance to go to Denver for some my shopping. I'm not going to go shopping for girl's outfits in Park County: that would be begging to get caught.

I feel kind of dumb for forgetting about my injections, but then again I was running on a little more than a mere hour of sleep. By the time I got home after my shift, I was five thousand dollars richer and it was four o'clock in the morning. I immediately took a shower realizing that I will also need to invest in make-up remover. By the time I went to bed, it was four thirty and I woke up at six.

Despite the fact that I'm exhausted, I really enjoy working at Vatican. My colleagues are awesome, except for Annie of course. I still can't help but feel bad for her: it must have been tough to see the man you have a crush on go for the new girl on her first night. She must have truly felt humiliated beyond belief.

Last night was fascinating to say the least: I found out that Eric Cartman is in love with me as Kyle and that he's very attracted to me as Ivy. He kissed my hand twice, told me he wanted to fuck the hell out of me, I kissed his hand once, he kissed my forehead as he left the lounge and that he turns me on tremendously. I also discovered that he torments me because it's his way of expressing love. That or he is embarrassed about being gay, or bisexual. It might be another reason all together, who knows? Anything is possible with him. He did just rush me home and saved my life after all. Who would have thought that Cartman had a sweet side?

It was thrilling to be in control for a bit last night: I've always loved to give him a taste of his own medicine. There were a few instances where I thought he figured out who I really am and one instance where I almost blew my cover entirely when I said I attracted fat sadistic Nazis, but thank goodness I was able to think fast enough to make a full recovery.

I finally convince my mother that I don't need to go to the hospital, but she makes me swear not to mention anything to Ike or to my dad: my dad would flip out and Ike may spill him the beans just to spite me. I thank her for respecting my choice and let her know that I'm going upstairs in my room to rest. Now, I just need an opportunity to sneak back in my parent's closet to get more clothes from the New Jersey box.

As I go up the stairs, the home telephone rings and my mom answers it: I didn't think that the opportunity would come so quickly. I decide to take everything there is in the box. With a little bit of luck, I'll find something appropriate. I also had to figure out a way to wash my clothes without my parents knowing and that was going to be tough because my mom was almost always home. I guess I could take my stuff to the Laundromat.

I swiftly make it back to my room and take a good look at my plunder: for tonight, I pick a silver top with a choker neckline and an asymmetrical ruffled black lace skirt which is mid-thigh length on the right side and then mid-calf length on the left side. I will definitely need to go to Denver soon because other than the green dress I wore yesterday and the top and skirt I'll wear tonight, there's not much to pick from.

Since I'm a terrible dancer, I figure it would be best if I pick a song that I can just wiggle and bounce my ass to. I could also throw in some shoulder movements. If the microphone stand is still there, I will most likely use it as a prop by swing it from left to right. I don't think I'm going to win tonight, but I didn't think I was going to win yesterday either. Besides, another five thousand bucks wouldn't hurt, right?

After listening to many songs, I end up picking _Temptation waits_ by Garbage: it's a good song and I look sexy dancing to it. I look even sexier if I lip sync to it. If I look sexy enough, the audience may vote for me based on that. I wonder if Eric will be there tonight too. I really hope he comes because I want to see him again.

I think the way he reacted to my hyperglycemic state confirms that I'm his special boy. His eyes were as red and as puffy as my mom's. If he ever finds out that I'm Ivy, he would surely slit my throat. If my parents ever find out that I am gay who recently discovered dressing in drags is fun and that I sneak out at night to go work as a shot girl, they would kill me. If my mom ever finds out I dress in the same clothes she used to wear when she went out drinking, she'd probably have a stroke. I'm in deep shit, but what choice do I have now?

I hear the garage door open: my dad is arriving. I take the feminine clothes off and change back into jeans and a t-shirt, making sure that my mom's clothes are well hidden under my bed. I pull out some school books and spread them on my desk and I make sure that the stupid law book that my dad brought for me has a bookmark in it: if I play their game, my parents will get off my back which means they'll never suspect my secret.

* * *

There is a knock on my bedroom's door.

"Come in" I say loudly.

"Kyle? Can you please come downstairs? Your mother and I need to speak with you. It's important." My father requests, his head peeking into my room.

What did I do wrong now? In any case, I get up and follow my dad downstairs and enter the living room and finding my mom and my brother already sitting down on the couch.

"Have a seat Kyle" My mother says as she pats the couch cushion beside her, indicating me to sit down.

I comply as my father takes a seat on his armchair.

"What's going on?" I ask, truly concerned.

"Oh! Boys! Something terrible has happened to your aunt Rachel. She was in a very bad car accident and she's currently at the hospital with a broken hip." My mother replies in tears.

"Boys, your mother and I were talking about it and we decided to go to Connecticut with Ike. Kyle, since you're sixteen and have a driver's license, you can stay behind. We're going to take care of your aunt Rachel as she needs all the love and support she can get." My father explains.

"What? That's bullshit" Ike yells.

"Ike, your aunt really needs our help and your cousin Kyle is devastated." My mom says sweetly.

"When did you find out? And how long will you be gone for?" I finally ask.

"This afternoon, Rachel's co-worker called me a little earlier. We'll be gone at least three months, probably longer: a hip injury is not a joke and she'll have to learn how to walk again." My mom answers.

"But Kyle, I trust you to remember your insulin everyday! We will also speak on the telephone every day, is that understood?" She continues.

"Yes." I reply, looking down at the floor.

"Very well! Kyle, we will wire you money every week so that you may buy yourself groceries. We also need you to take the time to pay the bills. We will give you the keys to your mom's car, but you have to be extremely cautious when you drive." My father continues.

Ike looks pissed off and I don't blame him: Connecticut sucks ass. I have to try very hard to hide my excitement. I will have peace for three months at the least: I'll be able to get ready for work in my own house and drive to it too! I can go to Denver and purchase more clothing. This is the best news I've had in a very long time. Sure, I feel bad for Aunt Rachel: she is the unluckiest person in the world. I'm so happy that my parents are flying there instead of bringing my cousin Kyle in: apparently, my cousin thinks South Park is a town full of morons. He has a point, but who cares?

"When are we leaving for that shit place?" Ike asks.

Ike got the short hand of the stick for once. Finally, things are going my way.

"Young man, watch your language!" My mother interjects.

"The flight will be tomorrow at two in the afternoon. Your mother already purchased the tickets and Kyle will drive us to the airport. Now Ike, go pack your luggage." My father replies.

My brother gets up, clearly pissed off and stomps up the stairs to do what my father requested.

"Sheila, we should go do the same. Oh, and Kyle, if there's anything, and I mean anything at all, you let us know right away. If one night you're planning to sleep over at Stan's or any of your friends house, you tell us so that we don't freak out if you're unreachable." My father says.

"Don't worry daddy, it makes total sense but please do the same, OK?" I reply with the most innocent, caring voice I can.

He nods at me before making his way upstairs to pack.

* * *

It's eleven thirty as I walk into Vatican and make my way to the employee's locker room. The past twenty four hours truly were full of surprises: between my shift last night, Cartman saving my life and my parents leaving tomorrow, I just have a lot on my mind. It's a lot of stuff to process.

As I take my jacket off and throw my back pack into my empty locker, I notice Annie walking in. She glares and me for a few seconds before opening her locker and putting her belongings inside of it. She doesn't say hello to me, which I don't give a shit about, but she did mutter something about making me pay which could be a potential concern, but what is she going to do? Bitch slap me until I die? I let out a sigh and make my way to the lounge. I'm here to make money; I'm not here to make friends.

Behind the bar, Lola straps in my two bottles: Jack Daniel's for and Captain Morgan, both of them for eight bucks a pop. I start going from table to table and eventually spot Cartman: he's got a front row table to the dance floor and is looking at couples slow dancing to a ballad. He's wearing a trim red sweater with a black shirt underneath. I would have never guessed him to be so stylish outside of school. I make my way to him and lightly tap his shoulder.

"Good evening Eric." I say with a smile "would you like to buy some rum or some whiskey?" I ask.

As he turns his mysterious golden eyes to me, I notice his face light up and a smile drawing itself on his face.

"I'll have 2 Jacks, and so will you." He says pulling a fifty out. He tells me to keep the change.

I sit down and pour our drinks. Cartman grabs his glass and asks me what we will drink to. I raise my glass and take a moment to reflect. I want to drink to my parents being away from me for three months. I want to drink to finally doing something about taking control of my destiny. I want to drink to the man that saved my life earlier in the day. There are many things that I am grateful today, but I settle on my personal Hero.

"To you." I finally say my glass still in the air.

"To me? I'll drink to me any day!" He declares with a smirk on his face, as he clinks his glass to mine.

Of course you would, fat ass. That thought made me chuckle a bit.

"Why are we drinking to me?" He smugly asks after taking dipping his lips in his drink.

"You blew quite a huge sum of money on me last night. Thank you."I reply, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks as I extent my hand at him, which he takes.

"I figured someone willing to spend so much money on a girl would just pay a prostitute and get a lot more out of it." I continue saying, looking at Eric in the eyes.

His eyes grew suddenly dark and he was now glaring at me. He is squeezing my hand really hard right now. What is wrong with him?

"Why the fuck would I get a prostitute? I would rather never have sex again than fucking pay for it. Let me tell you a little something about men, my sweet little Ivy: something really messed up happens to our brains when we believe that we own someone and we turn into lurid monsters, akin to rapists in my book." He spits with venom in his voice.

He is actually scaring the living shit out of me. I quickly glance down at my hand and notice my finger tips are almost purple from Cartman's strong grab. Oh God! I'm an idiot: I forgot that his mom is a prostitute! I'm such a moron, why did I even have to bring it up? Why didn't I just thank him? I feel tears rising in my eyes, so I lower my glance. Cartman must have noticed because he released his grip from my aching hand and takes it to his mouth to plant a kiss on it.

"I'm so sorry Eric. I didn't want to insult you." I manage to say in a whimper, my watery eyes still lowered.

Next thing I know, Eric is next to me and he lowers himself down, embracing me and leaving small pecks on my neck. Oh God! He smells so good and I feel like I'm in heaven.

"Shhhh. I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I don't ever want to hurt you." He whispers in my ear.

His words are sweet music to my ears; his touch is like crack-cocaine. I feel like I'm on a cloud and all I want to do is take his face and put my lips to his. Thank God for ruffled skirts for they hide boners perfectly.

When Cartman releases me from his warm and sweet embrace, he takes my hand that he squished and looks at it meticulously before kissing it once more. He takes his seat back and downs his whiskey in one shot. I also do the same.

We stare at each other in silence for a few moments before Ashley walks up on the stage and greets everyone in the room. The dance competition is about to start.

"It looks like it's my cue to go. God help me" I say immediately downing my second whiskey as I get up.

"I'm looking forward to watching you dance" Cartman tells me.

"You will regret these words, Eric. I am a terrible dancer." I admit as I chuckle and turn away towards the bar with our empty glasses on the tray.

* * *

As I absentmindedly watch Mia dance on stage, I can't help but think of what just happened between Eric and me. How could I have been so oblivious and so insensitive? I make a huge fuss whenever he rips on Jews and then forget how many times I have downright insulted him and his mom. The worst part in all of this is that Liane is a really sweet woman. Now that I think about it, it was Stan, Kenny and I that started ripping on Cartman before he ever bullied us back. I feel like such a douche bag when I think that I was a participant into making him the way he is.

I have focused so little on the dance competition that when Mia walked off the stage and my name was called, it took me a moment to register that it was actually my turn. Other than Mia, I don't even remember who danced yet and who is still up, I got no clue what song they danced to or how well they did. All I know is that I feel like a scumbag and that my knees are flinching a little bit because of the whiskey as I walk to the stage.

As I turn to the audience, I see the microphone stand is still in front of the podium, which means I'll have my prop. I look around at the crowd as the music begins and I look at Cartman. He's smiling at me. I feel my self-confidence take a boost: good! I needed that. As my body starts moving to the beat, I decide that since last night I sang for Cartman, tonight I will dance for him.

 _You come on like a drug, I just can't get enough._

I picked the song very well: it's how I feel about Cartman. And as I dance, swaying my body right and left of the microphone stand I'm holding, I can see him looking at me with the same devious eyes as yesterday. I doubt I'll win tonight, but it doesn't matter: he gave me the look and that's all I can ask for right now. If three days ago someone told me I'd develop a massive crush on him, I would have laughed myself to death.

 _And there's so much at stake, I can't afford to waste  
I never needed anybody like this before._

My dance is over and the crowd is screaming and clapping. I guess they don't mind how uncoordinated I am as long as I shake my booty.

It turns out that I was the last dancer tonight. The vote started as I walked off stage making my way back to the bar.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, take out your cards. Blue is for Christa, black is for Chastity, red is for Annie, white is for Mia and green is for Ivy. Please choose your winner!" Ashley exclaims.

It's tighter than yesterday, but I win again. I just don't understand, but I'll take it. I glance over to Eric's table and it's empty. My heart sinks a little: he could have at least said goodbye to me prior to leaving. The bid commences as I walk back to the stage. If Cartman doesn't win me, I really don't care who does: all I'll have to do is dance once with them and then pretend to enjoy their company. The bid is now at two thousand bucks, which isn't as much as last night, but still is quite a lot of money.

"Three thousand." Says someone that I can't see

"Four thousand." Says the old pervert looking dude from yesterday.

The crowd goes silent. Ashley is about to call the bid winner, when another voice is heard.

"Five thousand" Says a familiar voice.

The crowd gasps in shock. I look up and see the owner of the familiar voice. No way!

"Five thousand once, five thousand twice, five thousand trice! Congratulations! You may come get her."

It was Cartman. He makes his way to the stage, his right hand behind his back. As we come face to face, I see him pull his hand from behind his back and extend a white rose to me. I delicately take it from him and bring it to my nose to take a whiff.

"The aroma is so sweet and delicate. Thank you Eric" I say with a giant smile on my face.

"It's not as sweet and delicate as you. I'm sorry about before." He says before planting a kiss on my cheek.

Cartman turns to Ashley and gives her the money before gently taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor.

"You guys look so adorable! I picked the song for your first dance" Ashley announces.

When _Crazy for you_ by Madonna starts playing, Eric pulls me in closer and my heart is doing somersaults in my chest. I pray to God I don't get hard. I look up and see Eric's gorgeous eyes firing golden sparks at me. I wish this moment could last forever.

"Are you sure you're not Jewish?" He says chuckling.

"Huh?" I reply a little confused.

"You weren't kidding when you said you are a terrible dancer: you have no coordination whatsoever." He says chuckling a little more.

"Yes. I'm Jewish." I reply, hoping he drops the whole anti-Semitic comments all together.

"I knew it!" He exclaims letting out a loud laugh

That stupid fat ass: he just had to ruin the moment, didn't he?

"It's OK Ivy: nobody's perfect." He tells me, once his laughter subsided.

If my eyes were guns, Cartman would be dead on the ground by now. I feel my face turning red out of anger. He's such an ass hole and I wish I could punch him in the face right now. What an unbelievable racist ass hat he can be.

"I tease you because you're just so pretty when you get mad." He whispers in my ear after leaning in.

My anger is gone and the butterflies are back. How the fuck does he manages to make me feel like this? Now I'm getting mad at myself for letting him affect me that much. Forget red; my face must be purple by now. I see his face lean towards mine. I see his delicious looking lips are getting dangerously close to mine. Dear God, please don't let me get a boner now. He rests them on mine. I close my eyes and all of a sudden, nothing matters anymore. Everything superfluous ceases to exist: the dance floor – Gone! My parent's plans for me – Gone! Vatican – Gone! All that remains is Cartman and me. I part my lips a little bit, hoping he decides to explore my mouth with his tongue a bit, but he pulls away.

When I open my eyes, I'm back to the real world. The crowd is clapping and Cartman is looking at me tenderly and I just feel so warm. This is more than a crush: I just figured out that I love him. Yes, he's a douche bag. Yes, he's a fat ass Nazi, but he's my fat ass Nazi! That thought makes me smile. I'm so happy I could die right now.

I glance towards the bar and all the girls are looking at me: Lola has a huge smile drawn on her face and nods in approval; Ashley is also smiling and giving me thumbs up; Mia, Christa and Chastity are clapping and cheering and Annie just glares.

Before I know it, it's three o'clock and Vatican is closing. Cartman kisses me after saying goodbye.

"Will you be back tomorrow night?" I ask, hoping he'd say yes.

"I'll be in Denver for business." He replies with a sad look on his face.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Stay tuned for more.

I love you guys!

xoxoxoClotgirlxoxoxo


	7. Karma killer

I apologize for the very long wait for this chapter. RRSP season is now over, so I will be able to write and publish much faster since I won't be totally exhausted after work every day.

This chapter is very, very dark and very creepy. So I want to issue a massive TRIGGER WARNING (attempted rape/ assault). Read at your own risk.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy. I also recommend you listen to karma killer by Robbie Williams as you read: it really adds to the story.

Without further ado, enjoy! Reviews are always welcome :)

* * *

My name is Scott Tenorman and I'm twenty-three years old. I was born and raised in a shitty little mountain town called South Park. My life was great until the ninth grade: I had great friends, hobbies, passions and two amazing and loving parents. My mom and dad were awesome and they were very supportive of my dream of becoming a musician. Those days are long gone now.

I lost everything I cared for in one day. It all started when I sold my pubes for ten bucks to a dumb nine year old little piece of shit named Eric Theodore Cartman. When the little shit found out that he'd been duped by me, he desperately wanted his money back. I tricked him again and got an additional six dollars and twelve cents from him: he was furious. The little bastard elaborated a plan which got my parents murdered and he fed them to me the next day at his Chili Con Carneval.

After spending some time in a mental institution, I was able to break out and I tried to seek revenge against him. I did my research on him while I was still locked up and I discovered something so horrid about that fat turd, something so foul that I was convinced it would destroy him: my father and his whore of a mother had an affair back when I was seven years old. The trashy slut got knocked up and the piece of shit known as Eric Theodore Cartman was spawned. The whole town knew and everyone covered it up to protect my dad from any distractions since the Broncos were having a great year. Yes, my father was a professional football player.

That disgusting ass hole ground up his own father and fed him to his half-brother; how messed up is that? I never understood why it was I who was locked up in an asylum and not him.

I thought that finding out that he committed patricide would crush him, and for a moment I thought it did until I realized that he was sadder about his father's hair colour than his death. That fucking little piece of shit never even felt an ounce of remorse. The world would be better off without him.

After the fact, I tried to escape the premises with a jet pack, but was caught and cornered a few days later and brought back to the mental ward. I really fucking hate the mental ward.

Life at the asylum was simple: wake up was at six in the morning, breakfast was served at seven, and group therapy was from eight to nine thirty followed by a free period until lunch at noon. The afternoons could vary a little: right after lunch, there would be different activities such as art and music depending on the day, and then around three, we'd be able to do what we wanted unless, of course, we had an appointment with the psychiatrist. Dinner was served at seven and the lights were shot off at nine thirty.

Every day was the same agonizing ordeal: always the same people, always the same walls, always the same sounds and smells, always the same doctors and nurses and staff and always the same bloody stupid questions. _How does it make you feel?_ Geez, I don't know: my half brother killed our father and my mother and fed them to me! How am supposed to feel, happy? Am I supposed to feel all forgiving towards that little bastard child that ruined my life? They expect me to find closure, but there's only one way for me to do that: I will only find inner peace the day that I watch him lose everything. That day will come sooner or later, and this time I'll be the one licking his delicious tears of unfathomable sadness.

I kept track of the fatso after I re-entered the mental institution thanks to some of the ginger kids I allied myself with when I sought revenge on him on the first time. I paid the Foley kids to relay data about the fat little piggy and what he was up to. I found out he's no longer fat and apparently became quite attractive, at least that's what the Foley sister told me. He's in the eleventh grade at Park County High School and gets pretty good grades. I also found out that he's been hanging out at a place called Vatican quite a lot in the past year. It's a club that suppositively has the best looking shot girls in all of Colorado. The son of a bitch must enjoy looking at little sluts; I guess they remind him of his whore of a mother.

Last night was my first night out of the asylum in years. Last night, I was a free man again and it was time plot my true revenge. Last night, I went to Vatican to discover what the fat fuck likes about it so much. What I discovered was quite interesting.

* * *

I took a seat at a small table close to the bar: the Foleys weren't kidding when they claimed that the sisters of Vatican were renowned to be really pretty. I spotted my half brother almost right away: he was ogling at some hot redhead shot girl. I thought he despised redheads. I wasn't scared the son of a bitch would recognize me since all the medication, stress and anguish made me look much older than I am in reality. I could easily pass for a man in his forties: what's left of my hair almost all turned white, my skin is gray and I have permanent bags under my eyes. I know I'm not much of a looker, but I couldn't care less about that: I inherited my dad's fortune and I know that bitches dig men with lots of cash, no matter how disgusting they look.

Later on in the night, the girls had this stupid karaoke competition. I found out that the hot redhead's name is Ivy and the bitch won the competition and rightfully so: that girl is a great singer. When I saw how interested he was in her during her performance, I thought it'd be fun to actually win her in order to completely molest and degrade her in front of him since I know just how possessive he is with his little toys. I bid a large sum, convinced that I would win but he ended up outbidding me. When I saw the way he looked at her when he picked her up from the stage, that's when the idea for my revenge became clear: if something were to happen to the girl, it would surely destroy him.

I also met this other redhead: her name is Annie and I remembered her from the ginger separation movement although there was no way that she would remember me. She was glaring at the happy couple with daggers in her eyes. I was able to get her attention and had her come to my table. I bought some shots of sour puss for us so I could ask her some questions. I find out that she has had been trying to hook up with my ass hole half-brother for months, and that this Ivy girl seduced him on her first shift ever at Vatican.

"What if I told you that you could get revenge on her? Together, we could make her disappear and then that guy could be all yours." I told her almost whispering.

"If it takes her out of the picture altogether, you and I have a deal Sir." She replies with an evil smirk on her face.

"We've met before my little dear. It was a long time ago and I've changed quite a lot but I'm Scott Tenorman. Nice to see you again, Annie." I say as I extend my hand which she takes.

"I remember you! You lead the operation to get the prophet Mohammed some years ago. What the hell happened to you?" She exclaimed with an evil smile on her face.

"Sometimes, life can take a toll on a man my dear Annie." I told her as I gulped down my last shot of sour puss.

Soon, the revenge shall be mine; I shall take away what he holds most dear. I will crush his soul and I will make his life so bloody miserable that he will surely kill himself and when he does, I will piss and shit all over his grave. I will dig him out to watch him rot and get eaten up by maggots and botflies.

I will end him.

* * *

Look at that bastard child. Look at how happy he is after all the misery he caused me. He should be dead. In my dreams, I kill him over and over again. He took something precious from me. He destroyed my life and never expressed the slightest regret. He is an evil parasite; a worm that must be squashed, destroyed, obliterated and wiped off the face of the Earth. That fucking douche bag outbid me on Ivy once again. I need to come up with a better idea for revenge.

I wave at Annie to make her come to my table: she may have some information about Ivy that could be helpful. She comes to me right away and I purchase some shots for us.

"What can you tell me about Ivy other than the fact that you hate her? Did you notice any of her habits?" I bluntly ask her before downing my first shot of vodka.

"I know she takes the bus to come here. Last night, she left from the backdoor; the one that leads to the backstreet. Other than that, I haven't noticed anything" She replies.

"What about your man? How come he's so loaded?" I ask out of curiosity. I don't understand how a bastard with a crack whore mother managed to blow eleven thousand dollars on a girl he's not even allowed to fuck.

"Oh! Eric works for my boss! I'm not quite sure what he does for Tony, but I know he makes a shit ton of money from it." She replies innocently as she takes a shot to her mouth.

This is very valuable information: so if there's no way I could ever outbid him on the girl, I could always just snatch her on the street when she leaves the lounge. He is showing so much interest in Ivy and there are so many witnesses that can attest to it that if she were to disappear, he would be blamed for it for sure. He could get arrested and get locked up for a while. And if he doesn't, it wouldn't matter because I'd still have the girl locked up somewhere. I'll take good care of her and keep her alive as long as possible. I'll send him bits and pieces of her body every week. Yes! This is how I'll make it up to him!

I thank Annie and send her on her way. The lounge closes is in less than an hour. I text the Foleys so one of them can bring me chloroform.

The bastard will pay at last.

I hide behind the dumpster waiting to hear Vatican's back door open. The older Foley boy just dropped off the chloroform I requested. I decided that I'll kidnap her and lock her in my basement, all tied up and helpless. I will install a camera to film her twenty-four hours a day: she's such a pretty little thing that it would be a shame if someone were to repeatedly torture her and rape her just to have the footage sent to her little boyfriend. It would be a shame if her boyfriend received a little piece of finger or a little piece of her ear every now and again. It would be a shame if the son of a bitch got arrested because his precious little girlfriend vanished and a bunch of people saw him pay eleven grand for her company. I feel my cock getting hard at these thoughts as I hear the door open: I take a peek and notice it's her. I get my rag soaked up with chloroform and get ready to snatch her. She finally walks right in front of me without even noticing my presence. Poor dumb bitch! I grab her by the waist and try to get her close to me so I can put the rag to her face. As she screams, my throbbing hard on is rubbing against her back and I know exactly what I will do to her the second I get home: it will be very tender, for me at least. As for her, she won't be able to shit properly for a couple of days. Her boyfriend will receive a nice movie to watch tomorrow.

"Let me go!" She screams, trying to break free from my hold.

"Not tonight my little girl: you're coming with me! We're going to have so much fun" I reply as I try to immobilize her: the bitch is putting up quite a fight.

"Please!" She begs as she starts sobbing.

"Don't fight it! There's nothing you can do about it" I say as I lick her face and as she helplessly whimper and cries.

The rag is almost to her face when the bitch bites my forearm to the point of making me bleed. I drop the rag but kick the cunt right in her shin and make her scream some more. Without the chloroform, my only other option is to try to knock her out. I turn her to the wall and bend her over so I can ram her head first into it.

"No! No! No! Someone please help me!" She cries out desperately.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Shit! I turn around and see him: my half-brother is coming towards me with his fist in the air. I didn't realize how fucking tall he got! If he gets me, he'll surely kill me. God damn it, I was so close. Well there goes that: I'll have to come up with something else. I push her to the ground and run in the opposite direction. I may be smaller than the bastard, but at least I'm much faster. I quickly glance behind me before reaching the main road: he's not even following me. He's kneeling next to the girl probably making sure that she's OK. Since when does he care so much for someone else?

He may have won last night and tonight, but he can't keep winning forever. Sweet half-brother of mine, prepare to meet your doom. I will take the next opportunity that I am presented and I will fuck you up now that I know that the redhead is your kryptonite.

* * *

I told you it was going to be dark and creepy! Stay tuned for chapter 8!


	8. Don't panic

Hi everyone! Chapter 8 is finished at last!

This was a really fun chapter to write and as you read it, you'll totally understand why. Also, you will finally get s taste of some sexual content.

The song that inspired me the most while writing this was Don't panic by Coldplay.

Enjoy! Don't forget to leave a review.

Love you all!

Xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo

* * *

What the fuck just happened? My ears are ringing as I fall to the cold snowy ground. My whole body feels numb except for my face which feels as though it's on fire. I'm trembling like a leaf and I'm panting, practically gasping for air as tears continuously stream down my face. I honestly thought I was done for. I honestly thought that strange man was going to severely hurt me: I felt his aroused penis rubbing against my back so I know he wasn't just trying to scare me. That psychopath wanted to rape me, or wanted to rape Ivy should I say.

"Ivy! Oh my God! Ivy! Are you OK? Did he hurt you?"

Am I OK? I could be worst right now: that's a fact, but I feel far from OK. I feel bloody terrified! That guy was bringing a rag to my face: he was going to incapacitate me with chloroform or something. Then he tried to push me head first against the wall. I raise my head and notice Cartman kneeling next to me. Although I can faintly see his face in the dark, it's obvious that he looks like he's on the verge of losing his mind. Thank God he intervened because if he hadn't, I would have gotten murdered tonight. I can almost read the headlines: _Teenage drag queen found beaten to death in a dark alley._ Let's not kid ourselves; had that creepy psychopath had succeeded in knocking me unconscious and saw I have a penis, it would have been game over for me. That realization makes me cry even more. Without thinking, I just put my arms around Cartman and hug him as tightly as I can and start crying on his shoulder. He quickly reciprocates the embrace and starts gently rubbing my back. His warmth and his smell are the most comforting thing I could ask for right now.

"Than... Thank... You... So... So... Much" I manage to say in between sobs.

Without completely breaking our embrace, Eric manages to slowly get me up and throws my backpack over his shoulder before picking me up in his arms. He's so strong that had he caught the psycho dude, the ass hole would have disintegrated him with one blow. He starts walking towards the street, never ceasing to hold me tightly.

"I'm driving you home tonight. I don't care what you have to say about it. I will not let you walk around on the streets alone while there's a fucking disgusting rapist on the loose." He says sternly.

I tried to object but he wouldn't hear it. This is bad, really bad. I can't have him drive me home or he'll figure out who I actually am. I ask him to drop me off to the bus stop, trying to reach a compromise but he categorically refuses.

He unlocks his car and finally puts me down and that's when I realize that my right shin hurts like a bitch from the kick I received earlier and that my hands and knees are scraped and bleeding from the fall. Cartman gets into the driver seat and flicks the light on to examine my wounds. He reaches to the back seat and grabs his first aid kids. Without saying a word, he disinfects my wounds and bandages them. I notice that I bled all over his jacket and neck.

"Crap! I bled all over you. I'm so sorry Eric. Please, let me give you money for the dry cleaner." I say.

"I don't give a shit about that, Ivy. Did you see that ass hole's face? Could you identify him if you saw him?" He asks.

"No, he took me from the back. He had a rag in his hand and I felt his erect penis rubbing against my back and... Oh my God Eric! Thank you for saving me. I've never been so scared in my life!" I say as small tears start streaming down my eyes.

"If I ever catch that bastard, I will chop his dick off and feed it to dogs! I'm going to call Paolucci and have him cancel your shift tomorrow night: I won't be here to protect you in case he comes back." He says as he reaches for his phone.

"That won't be necessary Eric. I will have a car tomorrow and I'll just have Mike walk me to it after my shift is done." I quickly reply. There's no way on earth I can afford to miss work on my first week because of some creepy psycho.

"Alright, but no more walking through backstreets for you! Jesus Christ Ivy! Had something happened to you, I would have lost my mind, do you understand that?" He says putting his phone back in his pocket.

He turns towards me and extends his hand to caress my cheek. I can't help but blush as my pulse accelerates slightly. The way he looks at me with his hazel orbs sends a few shivers up and down my spine. He leans towards me his eyes slowly closing and I take the hint leaning in as well. As our lips come together, his tongue gently asks for entry into my mouth which I gladly allow. He grabs my jacket's collar and pulls me in closer to him. I am fully intoxicated by the being that is Eric Cartman: his smell; his taste; his touch. I am absolutely and irreparably in love with him.

"Come to Denver with me" He murmurs in between two kisses.

"I can't" I reply breaking the kiss and slowly pulling away. "I wish I could but I can't afford to miss work." I continue, lowering my eyes.

"Alright then, I'll be back on Sunday afternoon so I guess I'll see you that evening. Let's get you home, shall we. Where do you live?" He says as he releases his embrace and sits back properly in his seat.

I take a deep breath: this is the moment I've been dreading since I got into this car.

"I live in South Park. Just drop me off at the library and I'll walk home from there." I say, trying to sound as firm as possible.

"I am not letting you walk home after what happened tonight. I live in South Park too, so I really don't mind dropping you off at your house. It's not out of my way…" He starts

"I would much prefer walking back from the library. I like you very much Eric, but I don't feel comfortable with letting you know where I live just yet." I interrupt.

I hear Cartman let out a sigh and mutter something like "stubborn little girl" under his breath as he turns on the car and puts it in gear. We drive in silence for a few minutes before Eric finally breaks it.

"It's odd that I've never seen you around South Park, a small town where everyone knows each other. Were you homeschooled? Are you sure you just didn't move here recently?" He asks.

"I was born at Hell's Pass Hospital, just so that you know. And no, I was never homeschooled." I reply dryly.

"Your parents always lived in South Park?" He asks with a serious look on his face.

"My father was born and raised here, but my mom is from out of state." I stupidly reply, without thinking it could give away my true identity.

"Interesting... Let me guess: your mom is from New Jersey." He says smirking as he turns his head to look at me with a raised eyebrow.

Fuck my life! Why do I have to be so careless? Granted: I'm exhausted and in pain and all I want is a hot shower and my bed, but I fucked myself over on this one. Well, may as well get it over with: Cartman is pulling up in the library's parking lot anyways.

"Yes." I reply just as dryly as before.

Cartman slams on the brakes and turns to me, his eyes wide with shock.

"No! Not you too! You're trolling me! There's no way in hell your mom is a Jew from New Jersey!" He says before bursting into laughter.

And here we go again with the Jew jokes. But this time, I'm chuckling a little bit too.

"Yeah, it's true. I was actually conceived in New Jersey to be fair. And what do you mean by _not you too?_ " I add snickering.

He was already laughing, but the second he heard that I was conceived in New Jersey, his laughing had become uncontrollable. The fucker is literally laughing himself to tears: it reminds me of the time Kenny laughed himself to death. He tried to speak several times, only to end up laughing harder and harder. A good five minutes went by before his laughter died down. I just stared at him blankly the whole time.

"I guess I'm only attracted to Jews from New Jersey then." He finally manages to say with a huge grin on his face.

"And I guess I'm only attracted to Fat sadistic Nazis." I can't help but add.

We both chuckle a bit. That was a real weird situation, but if felt really nice. Tonight, I've been through the entire spectrum of human emotions and I feel spent.

"Well, here we are Poison Ivy. Remember to have Mike walk you to your car tomorrow night and please be careful." He softy says

Cartman unfastens his seatbelt and leans towards me again. Without hesitation, I close my eyes and bring my lips to his once more and part my mouth slightly so that our tongues can dance together once again. Eric is holding me so tightly and I just feel so good in his arms that I start to gently moan. He starts gently rubbing my back with one of his hands and it slowly makes its way to the nape of my neck. It's too late before I realize that he grabs a hand full of hair from my wig and I feel it move. My heart skips a beat and my eyes fly open as the wig just slips off my head and lands on my lap. Normally, it's pretty stable on my head, but I guess that between the struggle with the pseudo-rapist and Cartman's pull, however light it was, it just came right off. Cartman is just looking at me like a deer caught in the headlights. I see the bemusement in his eyes and on his face. My heart is beating so fast that I think I'm going to faint. All of a sudden, Cartman shakes his head as though he just snapped out of it and I debate whether I should just make a run for it or not.

"Khaaaaaal?" Cartman screams at the top of his lungs.

He stares at me with his eyes wide open for a bit, probably trying to make sense of this entire situation. Holy crap! What a bloody mess this is.

"It was you all this time?" He finally manages to softly utter.

At this point, his face is turning red little by little as the look of turmoil that's been lingering on his face gradually turns into a look of sheer rage. His eyes are as wide as saucers and are shooting hazel sparks in my direction. I feel fear, no, terror rise in my gut.

"Oh my God! It was you all this time! Argh!" He yells with fury in his voice.

Instead of pouncing forward to beat the living shit out of me, he just opens his door and gets out of the car, loudly slamming the door shut once he is outside. He's pacing around his car and screaming like a mad man. I don't really blame him to be honest: I'm undergoing deep feelings of shame and fear. I'm shaking inside and can't help but think that tonight, I may have survived a creepy psycho but I won't survive Eric Cartman. He just keeps screaming, rambling and yelling things like "that fucking sneaky Jew" as well as "how did I not figure this out?" followed by "It was so fucking obvious!" As he paces around like a maniac, he slips on some black ice and falls flat on his ass. Suddenly, all his screaming stops and dead silence takes over. To be honest, that lack of noise is freaking me out a lot more than the pseudo-rapist from earlier. I just want to run away, but I know for a fact that since he has a car and all, he'd make it to my house faster than me on foot. Worst even; he could try to run me over. Let's face it: I am stuck here and I'm in deep shit.

After a few minutes of Cartman sitting outside in silence, I hear the driver's door open and my body tenses up. As he sits back down in his seat, I can't help but notice that his face is completely devoid of any emotion and that makes me fear for my life. I am pretty certain he's going to kick my ass.

"Why?" He asks bluntly, without a trace of expression in his voice

"Why what?" I murmur, sincerely not knowing what he is referring to.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you working as a shot girl?" He specifies.

"I really need the money Eric" I reply truthfully. There's no point lying to him now.

"Alright, fair enough: what do you need money for?"

"It's a long and complicated story. I'll tell you everything about it eventually, I promise."

"Ok. On to my next question then: Why did you allow me to kiss and hold you? Don't you hate me? Was it because you were planning to milk more money from me? Or did you figure out how I feel about you and this was just an elaborate plan to crush me?" He asks with venom in his voice.

"No! I don't hate you! Well, I thought I did, but I realise now that don't. Last night I saw you through different eyes and you saved my life twice earlier today. I misjudged you: you are kind and caring and I'm the one who's just a stupid ass hole." I reply honestly with tears rising in my eyes.

"Why did you let me then, Khal?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Isn't it obvious?" I literally scream at the top of my lungs. How isn't he figuring it out?

"No! It's not obvious! If it was obvious I wouldn't be asking you, you fucking dumb ass ginger Jew!" He screams back at me.

"I let you do it because I fucking love you, you fat fucking Nazi ass hole! Why else would I let you?" I scream at the top of my lungs, throwing my hands up in the air.

Cartman's jaw drops and he stares at me incredulously for a few moments. I can see his lips tremble as though he is trying to say something, but no sound comes out of his mouth for a while.

"Come again?" He finally manages to murmurs.

"Eric Theodore Cartman, I am completely and absolutely in love with you. The way I feel when you touch me, or even when you come close to me is so intense that it makes my heart does somersaults in my chest and a billion butterflies swarm in my guts." I say looking at Cartman straight in the eyes.

As he looks at me, most likely still trying to process what I just said, I throw myself at him, practically lying on top of him; I just couldn't help myself! I put my lips to his and start kissing him passionately. He kisses me back with equal fervor. The butterflies are back in my stomach and I feel the heat rising in my groin. His hands make their way from my back to grabbing my butt and my thighs. As we explore each other's mouths with our tongues, my right hand makes its way down to Eric's crotch and surely enough he's hard as a rock. I slowly pull my face from his and flash him a mischievous smile before sloppily licking my lips. He lets go a quiet growl as he looks at me and I can't help but feel turned on by his flushed face. Without taking my eyes off of his face, I unzip his pants and he immediately raises his pelvis to help me uncover his raging erection from his pants and underwear. His manhood is slightly longer than average, but it's incredibly thick. I get off Eric and take his dick in my hand and slowly bring my mouth to it. My fat Nazi lets out a whimper when I start to gently lick his tip. I hear his breathing accelerate when I start stroking him, never taking my wet tongue away from the tip. I then decide to give him something I knew he'd love: I sucked his balls! Back when we were ten years old, he had gone to great lengths to get me to do it. He lets out a loud groan when finally decide that I'm done with the ball sucking and instead take his whole cock deep in my mouth, all the way down to my throat and switch my hand to his balls. I start gently, but gradually increase the pace and the degree of suction I'm applying to Eric's dick while massaging his balls with my hand. In the meantime, Eric is groaning and moaning and twisting in his seat: having this much power and control over him is just very inebriating.

"Khal! Khal! Oh my God! It's too much! Holy Crap Khal! I'm gonna... I'm gonna... Ahhhh!" He cries as he raises his pelvis, causing him to climax directly down my throat.

I start coughing as I pull my face away, choking on his seed. I'd expect Cartman to laugh at such a thing, but I guess he's still recovering from his orgasm. Luckily, I managed not to cough up come all over his car, but I will say that having semen coming up your nose is not the most pleasant experience I've had in my life. I finally manage to look at him once my cough starts to subside: his hazel sparkles are staring at my face intensely as he regains a normal breathing pace.

"What's up?" I finally ask after a minute or so.

"Khal, you're coming to Denver with me tomorrow and that's final." He lets out flatly.

"Eric, I have to work. It's also getting late; I need to get home because I have to wake up early in the morning." I reply.

"I'll speak with Paolucci and I'll give you whatever money you need. Also, tomorrow is Saturday: why the fuck do you need to wake up early on a Saturday?" He sounds annoyed at this point.

"I need to drive my parents and Ike to the airport and please don't speak with my boss: it'll look bad if I miss a day of work on my first week!" I implore.

"Where is your family going and what time is their flight at?" He asks.

"They're going to Connecticut to take care of my aunt. You remember my cousin Kyle?"

"Of course I do; he takes care of my investments. Oh wait a second! His mom broke a hip earlier today! He told me when I called him to invest some more money with him! They're all going there to take care of her, am I right?" He says, laughing triumphantly.

It's my turn to be taken by surprise: I had no clue Eric dealt with Kyle when it came to investments, but then again, Kyle is a walking and talking Jewish stereotype. I remember when he made a fortune investing in It when we were only mere children.

"Yeah, you pretty much nailed it!" I admit.

"So when's the flight?" He asks again.

"They're leaving at two in the afternoon, so I need to drop them off at noon at the airport. I really need to get some sleep if I ever want to be up and functional by ten."

"That's perfect! Listen; tell your parents that I'll be driving them to the airport because you and I are going to Denver anyway for my cousin Elvin's birthday party and that we will both spend the night at my aunt Lisa's." He says, flashing a devious smile.

"Cartman, I have to work!" I reply slightly irritated.

"Kyle, I'll handle Paolucci and we'll be back in time so you can work on Sunday night. You are coming to Denver with me." He says sternly.

"God damn it! Why do you want me to go with you so badly?" I ask, exasperated.

"There's something I want to show you and I want you to tell me why you need all this money. I get that it's late now, so I'll drive you home right now so that you can shower before your parents wake up." He says just as sternly as before.

"Fine, you win! I need to go shop for more dresses anyways, so may as well spend some quality time with you, Eric." I finally reply, defeated.

"Shopping for dresses sounds fun. Do you want to go get your nails done too?" He smugly asks.

"Shut up fat ass! I only have two outfits, you know." God he can be frustrating.

"I admire your balls; it must have been tough buying chick clothing in such a small town." He says.

"Oh, I didn't buy those: they're dresses my mom brought with her from New Jersey when she moved here. It took me all the courage in the world when I had to go buy the wig; I would have never dared to buy a dress in the South Park Mall! Imagine if Bebe Stevens saw me trying on a dress?" At that, Eric and I both burst into laughter.

"Yeah... Your life would be pretty much over. The whole town would know before you'd even pay for the damn dress. She's such a gossiping cunt!" Eric agrees.

It literally takes less than five minutes for us to arrive at my place. I notice it's almost six o'clock and I'm beyond exhausted. I'm really looking forward to a nice hot shower and my bed, even though I'll only be able to get a couple of hours in.

"Be ready at ten o'clock sharp. Whatever you do, don't try to sleep: it'll just screw you over and you'll be a zombie tomorrow. If you'll feel like you're about to doze off at any point, then take this." He says handing me a small blue pill.

"What the fuck is this shit?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It's speed. It'll wake you up. You can't be in zombie mode tomorrow or your parents will suspect something. Don't forget to bring your insulin." He adds.

I look at the pill and conclude that I'll do anything in my power to avoid taking it. I've never tried drugs and I'm a little scared to try them to be sincere. Eric leans in for a kiss, which I grant and I open the car to get out.

"Oh and Khal, don't forget to bring that wig of yours. Actually, bring a whole outfit. If we're gonna go shop for chick clothing, you'll have to actually look like one. We're going to Denver, not super tolerant San Francisco." He adds making an excellent point.

* * *

When I was writing the part where the wig falls off, I was literally laughing to tears.

Stay tuned for the next chapter: Eric and Kyle finally go to Denver and Kyle has two massive surprises in store for him. Make sure to follow my story so that you don't miss it.


	9. Chasing Cars

Hi everyone!

I wrote most of this chapter while I was at the hospital: on March 9th, I injured myself as I was shucking oysters and I went to the ER to get stitches and a tetanus shot. I went back to the hospital on March 12th because my hand was extremely swollen and I had a fever. I was released from the hospital on the 16th and have been making little changes here and there to the chapter. Chapter 10 is already in the making, just so that you know.

The song that inspired me for this chapter is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. (I know, it's totally gay, but so is this story, therefore it's perfect!)

It was very physically painful to write, but I'm glad it's out of my system. I guess I'll be publishing stuff a little faster now because typing and playing video games are part of my hand's rehabilitation.

As I promised, Kyle is in for some surprises in this chapter. I hope you enjoy and as usual, please review.

Love,

xoxoxClotgirlxoxox

* * *

Thank you very much for the ride Eric" My father says as Eric helps him load the luggage into Liane's van.

"It's a pleasure Mr. Broflovski. I know it was a little at the last minute, but I'm really grateful Kyle agreed to come with me." He replies nonchalantly.

I had gotten home just in time to get in the bathroom and lock the door behind me prior to hearing my parent's footsteps down the hall. I took the most satisfying shower of my life and meticulously removed all traces of make up from my face. I then made a run for my room to get dressed and pack a bag with my wig, make up and the outfit I wore on Thursday evening. My father was a little shocked to learn that I was going to hang out in Denver with Eric Cartman out of all people. My mom wasn't fazed one bit: I think her opinion of him has drastically changed after he rescued me from a dangerous hyperglycemic state. I'm glad that they had no problem with Eric driving them to the airport. Ike was a little irritated to have to sit in a car for two hours with a guy that referred to him as a little dildo for five years, but who gives a shit about him anyways? After much reflection, I took the speed pill about five minutes ago and I'm a little worried about what kind of effect it will have on me. I keep wondering why Eric has speed on him: he seems pretty alert and doesn't look as though he stayed up all night. Come to think about it, he was very awake yesterday at school although he was up until at least three thirty in the morning. My guess is that he uses it regularly in order to stay awake since it seems he barely ever sleeps.

I'm actually happy to sit in the front with Eric instead of in the back with my family since I have no clue what the heck I'll look like once the speed kicks in. Eric and my father are finally done loading everything in the trunk and are taking their seats aboard the vehicle at last.

"So Eric, how is your mother doing? It seems as though I haven't seen her in months." My father enquires as he fastens his seat belt.

"She's doing just great Mr. Broflovski; she's just been really busy, that's all. How so very considerate of you to care for her well being." Cartman replies with a hint of bitter sarcasm. I wonder why he took that tone...

"Well please extend our greetings to her Eric: God knows when we'll be back" My mother chimes in.

"Thank you Sheila. I most certainly will." Eric replies, this time sounding more sincere.

It's funny how circumstances can change a person: up until last week, I couldn't stand the sight of Cartman and very early this morning, I was making out with him and giving him a blowjob. He smelled and tasted so delicious. Last night I had the best and the worst time of my life: there never seems to be a dull moment when Eric Cartman is involved. I can't believe I'll get to spend the night with him. I am a little anxious to be sincere: I have no clue where he is taking me or where we'll be staying. I wonder what it is he so desperately wants me to see: he insisted for me to come with him quite a bit.

All of a sudden, I don't feel tired anymore and I can't stop scratching the door handle with my fingernails. I try to make myself stop, but it's as though my fingers seem to have a mind of their own. My stomach is also killing me and I keep burping up bile. I can hear Cartman and my parents making small talk and I had to keep myself from interjecting a few times because I have a feeling anything that will come out of my mouth will sound stupid. It finally dawns on me that the speed just kicked in. I'm sweating like a pig and I feel my heart heavily pounding in my chest and quite frankly, it feels like a panic attack more than anything. I would give anything to get out of the moving vehicle and go run around in circles right now. I'm breathing more heavily right now, and I think Cartman noticed when he glanced towards me and saw how much of a fidgety mess I am: I must be acting quite a lot like Tweek right now. The good thing is that I only have to be stuck in the same confined space with parents for another hour or so.

"Mr and Mrs Broflovski, would you mind if I stopped at the next rest stop to use the washroom? I think I may have had a little too much coffee this morning and I'm afraid I won't be able to hold it all the way to Denver." Eric says very politely.

"Oh Eric! When you have to go, you have to go! No justification needed." My mother replies softly.

"I need to go too!" I brashly say. I realize I need to hold my tongue: I totally did sound like Tweek!

We are parked at the rest stop five minutes later. Cartman gracefully removes his seat belt and heads outside. I tried to look as normal as possible, but it feels as though I've wrestled with my seat belt for the longest time possible and to top it all off, I'm shaking like a leaf.

"Kyle, are you alright?" My father asks.

"Yeah dad! When you gotta go, you gotta go!" I loudly say as I finally manage to free myself from the seat belt and open the door.

I make a run towards Cartman who's already half way to the washroom. He turns around and looks at me with a smirk.

"Damn it Khal! I should have just given you half a pill. I should have known you were a light weight!" He says giggling.

"Shut up fat ass! How do you manage to remain so normal looking after taking this shit?"

"Oh, I don't take that shit Khal! I use other stuff to keep me going when I'm beat." He replies as he brings his index finger to his nostril and inhales.

Great! I'm in love with a coke head that likes his shit so much that he won't even share it with me and gives me the cheap crap instead. I bet the fat ass did it on purpose just to watch me struggle when I could have been as in control as him for the two hour drive to Denver. I should have never taken that stupid pill . I feel fucking dumb right now.

We make it to the oddly empty washroom and Cartman locks the door behind us before turning towards me and flashing me one of his devious grins. I look at him, in utter confusion.

"Eric, what are you doing?" I ask, truly confused.

"Sorry Khal, I should have told you I didn't really need to use the restroom. I just couldn't wait any longer." He softly says.

He walks towards me and cups my face in his hands, his large hazel orbs looking right through my soul. He leans in and puts his lips to mine, giving me a chaste kiss. I shiver as I feel his lips and realize I just want more. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him and deepen the kiss as I feel heat rise in my groin. Eric puts his arms around my waist and lifts me and rests me against the wall as I wrap my legs around him. I feel my underwear tightening as we make out.

"I can't wait to be alone with you." He murmurs in my ear as he puts me down.

He has a gift for making me hate him a minute and adore him the next. I brush my hand through his soft brown hair before hugging him tightly. In about an hour, it'll only be him and I and I honestly can't wait to be able to kiss him in the car and not have to worry about my parents being there. On second thought, I'm starting to like the hyper sensitivity the speed is giving me. Every touch and every kiss is intensified and I'm tempted to ask Cartman for some more later on. Eric breaks our embrace and turns to the counter. He pulls out a little black box that i recognize to be a Sephora gift card holder. He opens it and it contains a little baggie with white powder in it. I guess Eric had more than one pressing desire to quench. I watch as he draws up three lines and snorts them one after another. After every line, he would tilt his head back and his eyes would roll all the way back. He really seemed to be enjoying it.

"Eric? Why did you give me speed instead of what you're having?" I ask, causing him to turn to me.

"Coke is more habit forming than speed and the effects also don't last as long which is why people tend to take more of it and thus get extremely addicted to it, extremely fast. I will never allow that happening to you. " He replies, sounding sincere.

"What if I want to try it?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. Seriously, he doesn't think I can make my own decisions?

"Khal, the first time I tried it I thought it was over rated: the rush lasted only twenty minutes or so and after it wore off, I just felt pissy and irritated at life which in turn caused me to take more and more and more... next thing I knew, I was fucking hooked on it. Do you still want to try it?" He replies stoically.

"You're hooked on it?." I say, incredulously. Cartman doesn't look like a drug addict.

"Yes, Khal. Yes I am. In any case, we have to get back to the van before your parents come looking for us. I didn't just stop here to get my fixes;I saw that you were pulling a Tweek and I figured I'd give you some breathing space before your parents noticed anything. Are you okay now?" He asks, half smiling.

I nod. I should be able to handle myself for an hour until my parents are officially out of my hair for three months.

* * *

"Thanks again for the ride Eric. It's much appreciated." My father says as he pulls out the last suitcase from the van's trunk.

"The pleasure is mine Mr Broflovski." He replies.

I notice my mother is fighting back tears as she kisses and hugs me goodbye. She must be worried sick about leaving her sixteen year old Bubbe all by himself for three months. She keeps making recommendations such as _don't forget to take your insulin_ or _be very careful when you drive the car_ and finally _don't throw any parties._ My father pats my shoulder and reminds me that they'll be getting all my grades via email from my teachers and that we will discuss the law book he gave me upon his return, you know, just to make sure I read the damn thing. Ike just flips me off and walks away. I fake a sad face as I wave them goodbye prior to make my way back to the passenger seat of the van. I let out a sigh of relief as I sit down next Eric. We glance at each other and I start giggling. Cartman looks at me with a raised eyebrow and smiles.

"Someone's happy!" He exclaims.

"You can bet your ass I'm happy Eric! They're out of my hair!" I reply, practically ecstatic.

"Fair enough, I guess." He says as he drives away from the airport.

"So where are we going now Cartman?" I ask.

"You'll see soon enough. I need to visit someone prior to checking into the hotel. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you." He softly says.

"Who's she?" I enquire.

"You'll see. So, are you going to tell me why you are so desperate for cash that you have to work as a shot girl?" He asks as he quickly glances in my direction.

"Will you tell me what you do for Paolucci and how you could afford to blow eleven thousand bucks on Ivy?" I ask him.

"Sure. I don't want any more secrets between us Khal. Not now that I know our feelings are mutual." He replies tenderly

I take a deep breath and proceed to tell him everything. Cartman listens to attentively as I tell him about the life plan my father has devised for me and that my mother encourages. I tell him how my father will pretty much disown me if I don't follow in his footsteps. I let him know about how trapped I've felt the past few years and how I desperately want to get out of South Park right after graduation and travel the world. I explain I would have never thought I'd be selling shots of alcohol dressed up as a woman to make enough money to escape my manipulative father. I also admit to him that my parents have no idea I'm gay and that I have no intention to let them know about it until I get the fuck out of South Park. Cartman nods at every single confession I've made.

"You want my opinion Khal? Good for you: you deserve to be your own person and to be happy. I used to think your mom was a crazy bitch when we were kids, but I've found out afterwards that she is the lesser evil when it comes to your parents. You didn't need to tell me that your dad is the manipulative type; I found out on my own and every time I see him, it takes all of my self control to keep me from beating the crap out of him." Cartman says, gritting his teeth.

"What do you mean by you found out on your own? And why would you want to beat him up? That's just messed up dude!" I ask slightly shocked, not knowing what the fuck he's talking about.

Eric takes a deep breath and quickly glances over at me again.

"Khal, I'll tell you, but you have to swear that you won't get mad at me or call me a liar. Trust me; I know what I'm talking about."

"I promise, now tell me everything." I say eagerly, curiosity taking me over.

"Ok, fine. About two years ago, I came back home from school a little earlier than I had told my mom I would. I must tell you that my mom would sometimes take some clients at home. Well, that day your father was the client and I caught him beating up my mom who was on the floor because she refused to perform something he asked her to do." He says bitterly, his voiced tinged with both sadness and anger.

I feel a rush of heat going from my head to my toes. I'm not sure if it's because of what I just heard or if it's how it feels to come down speed. No matter how much I dislike my father, I can't believe he would do such a thing. Yes, he can totally be a manipulative jerk, but I can't really picture him beating up a woman, or even imagine he would cheat on my mother and let alone pay for a prostitute.

"No. You can't be serious. My father would never do that!" I exclaim.

"God damn it Khal! You promised you wouldn't…" He interjects.

"Fuck you Cartman! My dad isn't a cheater or a woman beater!" I scream out.

"Khal! God damn it! A little over two years ago on May twenty-seventh, your dad went back home to his family with a black eye and a broken nose. I don't know how he justified it to you guys, but that's what I did to him after I found him kicking my mom while she was naked and helpless on the living room floor." He screams back.

The rush of heat is replaced by a rush of icy coldness as I remember the day of my fourteenth birthday and how my dad did in fact come back home with a black eye and a broken nose claiming that a crazy client walked into his law firm and was very upset that his case was lost in court and beat up my dad when he was told he couldn't be given a refund on his lawyer fees. Now I understand why my father refused to call the cops and press charges against his aggressor: the crazy client simply didn't exist. Of course, my father wouldn't press charges against Eric since his clean slate reputation was at stake. If Eric told the whole town that Gerald Broflovki, the perfectly wholesome lawyer and family man, solicited his mother's services, my dad's credibility would have been lost.

"Why do you think I didn't show up at your birthday party that year? I stayed away from your house because I was scared to lose my temper and kill him. I swear to God Khal, the only thing that kept me from killing him is that I don't want to hurt you." He finally says.

"Holy shit Eric! I'm so sorry; I don't know what to say." I finally manage to mumble.

"Don't apologize: it's not your fault that

your dad is an ass hole." He replies flatly.

"So, what do you do for Paolucci?" I ask "I showed you mine, now you show me yours." I add, trying to lighten up the mood a little bit.

"That will have to wait until later. We're here." He says as he pulls in a parking lot.

I look up and notice the slick looking brick building to our right. The sign reads _Anschutz Cancer Pavillon_. I look at Cartman's face and notice how pale he just became as he parked the car. As he turns off the ignition, I can't help but observe that his hands are lightly shaking and that he's taking deep breaths. His face went pale and he looks almost panicked.

"What are we doing here?" I ask.

"Visiting the other person I live for." He murmurs back, once again taking out his Sephora case.

* * *

"My Poopsykin came to visit me! Mommy is so happy to see you. You also brought your little friend Kyle to see me; how sweet!"

Standing in front of me is a very frail and weak looking Liane Cartman: she's sitting in a wheelchair and she looks as though she lost thirty pounds at least. Her skin has a grayish tint and all her hair is missing. I wasn't expecting this at all. Cartman is tenderly and cautiously hugging his mother. When we were walking to her room mere moments ago, Eric looked as though he was going to lose his mind and now I understand why. I feel so sorry for the two of them that I'm struggling to fight back the urge to cry: I'm sure the last thing Ms. Cartman needs to see is another person in tears over her suffering. As Eric breaks his embrace with his mother, it's my turn to go close to her and greet her properly with a hug.

"Hello Ms. Cartman. I wish you a speedy recovery." I say as I lightly hug her.

"Thank you Kyle. It's good to see you here. Thank you so much for dropping in." She says.

"Mum, I missed you so much. How have you been? What's new?" Eric enquires.

"I've been better, of course, but I'm optimistic: Dr. Tarbox says that the chemotherapy and the radiotherapy are doing their job. Since I lost so much weight, she prescribed medicinal marijuana because she says it'll help me keep the food down after chemotherapy rounds." She replies in her usual sweet voice.

"Are you hungry mum? Do you want me to go get us a little something to eat?" Eric asks her as he gently strokes her cheeks.

"Oh Poppsykin! You're just the sweetest little angel any mother could ask for. I'm not that hungry, but I guess I could have some tea and a biscuit or two." She replies.

"Alright then, we'll be right back. Khal, you brought your insulin, right?"

"Uh! Yeah, it's in the car though." I shyly reply as we start walking away from Liane's room.

As I follow him, I can't help but feel bothered: it pisses me off that Eric hasn't told anyone what's going on with his mother. We eventually reach his car and I grab my insulin from my backpack. A question is burning my lips.

"Why haven't you told anyone about your mom?" I ask.

"Khal, you need to understand that her treatment is extremely expensive for those like my mom and I who lack private insurance. Therefore, I have to do some pretty illegal work to be able to afford it. She's been hospitalized here for four months and it already cost me over a hundred thousand dollars. How in the world could I justify having that much money to everyone I know?" He replies dryly.

He's absolutely right: South Park is a small shitty town where everyone knows everyone else's business. Although I am not quite sure about what he does, if people find out that he's paying for his mom's treatment and hospitalization by himself, at sixteen years of age without any insurance to cover part of it, people will get suspicious as fuck.

"You're absolutely right. I'm just so shocked right now; I really wasn't expecting that at all and it's just crazy that you were able to keep something that terrible to yourself at sixteen, dude!" I say, feeling a pinch in my heart.

"Well, I let you know, didn't I?" He calmly replies.

"Yes, yes you did. Thank you for letting me in." I say wrapping my arm around him, a gesture that he welcomes

He smiles at me before we make out way to the center's cafeteria. We get Liane her tea and some lemon bars while Cartman gets himself a burger with fries and I get myself a salad. We make our way back to Liane's room and sit down with her and chat for a bit. Despite her horrible disease, Ms. Cartman is in great spirits. I learn that she was diagnosed with stage two non-small cell lung cancer three months ago: that means that it has spread from her lungs to her lymph nodes. She tells us that she can't wait to be in remission and go back home because not only is she tired of being confined to a hospital, she really misses Eric and her friends. Our small talk is interrupted when a nurse in her mid-forties walks into the room.

"Ms Cartman, it's time." She says as she goes behind the wheelchair and takes the brakes off.

"Oh dear! Boys, I must go in for my chemo round. When will I see you again my little Poopsykin?" She asks.

"We'll pass by tomorrow before going back to South Park mum. We're going to spend the night here; we'll probably go catch a movie later or something." He says softly as he goes up to her and kisses her cheek.

"Alright then. You boys have fun tonight. See you tomorrow." She says as the nurse wheels her out of the room.

* * *

"Alright Khal, here's the plan: you're going to put on your Ivy outfit and your wig right now. We're going to check into the hotel, and then I'll take you shopping. Tonight, I'm taking you out for dinner and then we'll go clubbing or something." Eric says once we're back in the car.

"Dude! I'm not going to do my make up in the car! I need an actual mirror and good lighting to apply it correctly!" I brashly reply.

"God damn it Khal! Just wear sunglasses and do your make up at the hotel. I don't want to walk in with a dude and walk out with a chick. This is Denver, not fucking San Francisco! How many times do I have to remind you before it finally sinks into that Jew head of yours?" Eric states, clearly irritated.

I let out a deep sigh: some things will never change. I grab my bag and go to the back seat of the van so I can get changed. I notice Cartman is staring at me using his rear view mirror as I take my clothes off.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." I say chuckling.

"Oh, I will Khal! I have my camera and I'm planning to take a lot more than just a measly picture." He slyly replies.

I can see the reflection of his wide grin thanks to the rear view mirror. God damn it! I forgot his main hobby has been photography since the fourth grade. He's a damn good photographer too. I remember the time he took a picture of Butter's dick in his mouth and showed it to the whole class because he thought I stole. There were also all the other pictures he took of poor Butters, like the one where Cartman made him a turd-mustache. He's so mean to poor Butters still to this day.

"Let me guess; blackmail material?" I reply, clearly annoyed as I slip on the green dress from Thursday.

"It's called art my dear. I don't think you understand just how fucking gorgeous you look both as a guy and as a chick." He says sensually.

I sigh again as I go back to the front passenger seat after putting on my wig. Once I'm seated, Cartman hands me a pair of large Chanel sunglasses and stares at me for a bit prior to throwing himself at me and kissing me passionately. I welcome his initiative and start kissing him back with equal fervor. Something tells me that I won't get much sleep tonight either. It's alright; I'll just take some more of Eric's magic little pills.

"We should get going." He says as he slowly pulls himself away from me and turns on the ignition.

It takes us roughly fifteen minutes to arrive to _Hotel Teatro_ , a five star hotel located close to the University of Colorado. As Cartman informs the valet that he'll need his car immediately after checking in, a bellhop grabs our bag and takes us to the front desk where Eric checks in.

"Looks like we're all set up my dear, let's go to our suite." Cartman says once he's done.

The bellhop escorts us to our room, and as he opens the door to let us in, my jaw drops: this is the most luxurious suite I've ever been in.

"Mr and Mrs Cartman, welcome to the junior suite. This is the living area, and the bedroom is behind these French doors. The suite is equipped with two full wash rooms: one attached to the bedroom and the other one is accessed by the door next to the couch. Should you need anything, my name is Antoine and I am at your service. I wish you a pleasant stay and thank you for choosing Hotel Teatro." The bellhop says in a thick French accent.

"Thank you very much Antoine. Could you please arrange to have a bottle of Veuve Clicquot sent up for, let's say six o'clock tonight?" Cartman asks him as he hands him a twenty dollar bill.

"With pleasure Mr. Cartman." Antoine says with a wide grin.

Once Antoine is out of the room, I finally remove the large sunglasses and head for the washroom annexed to the bedroom so I can proceed to pull out my make up and start applying and contouring. I hear Cartman moving stuff around in the suite before he peeks his head in the bathroom and informs that me he needs to step out for half an hour or so and to make sure that I'm ready to go shopping once he comes back. He also tells me he left something for me on the bed and to check it out before he comes back. As I continue to carefully apply make-up, I can't help but think how surreal this is: Vatican, Eric, the girls, the creepy rapist in the alley, my parents leaving for three months, Liane Cartman and now a gorgeous five star hotel. And all this stuff happened just in the past three days. I honestly wish I could tell Stan about it, but he'd never understand. My super best friend doesn't even know that I'm gay and I think it's time I come out to him.

I'm finally done with my make-up and decide it's time to see what Eric left on the bed for me and it turns out to be a black leather purse with a big metal Chanel logo covered in rhinestones. There's a note on it that reads _open me_ and so I do. The purse contains a small leather wallet that matches the purse with another note that says _open me_ which I do, once again. The wallet contains another note that reads _check the coffee table_ as well a driver's license with my picture as Ivy and the name reads Ivy Cartman and it states I'm twenty-one. How the fuck did he get a picture of me as Ivy? And to make matters more bewildering, I notice that the picture was taken Thursday night because of the jewelry I'm wearing. I will have to ask Eric when he comes back, which should be any minute now. I walk to the living room and look down at the coffee table and notice a small velvet jewel box. Is it what I think it is? I open it and discover it's exactly what I thought it was: a gold ring with a large emerald that's surrounded by diamonds. The inside of the top part of the box reads _will you marry me?_ I feel a rush of heat overcome my entire body and a loud ringing commences in my ears. This is so fucked up; we're only sixteen years old for crying out loud! Cartman and I aren't even dating or anything. I feel tears rise in my eyes and butterflies swarming my stomach. I'm just so incredibly baffled right now: I don't know what to think anymore.

"Kyle Broflovski, will you, as Ivy, be my lawfully wedded wife? Mind you, it's not that you have a choice; your ID has already been printed, so it's not like you actually have a choice." The unexpected familiar voice says behind me, which startles me.

"God damn it fat ass! You scared the shit out of me." I say as I turn to face him, attempting to regain some composure. Eric starts cracking up the moment he sees my face.

"It's not funny Cartman! I thought you actually wanted to marry me. By the way, how the fuck did you manage to get a picture of me last Thursday?" I continue.

"You don't remember Tony taking a picture of you for his staff book? I just had him send it to me and I printed that ID after I dropped you off this morning. I think the name Ivy Cartman suits you perfectly." He answers with a massive grin on his face.

I was so nervous for my first shift that I completely forgot the picture Tony took of me. Now, I'd like to know why the heck Cartman would blow a shit ton of money on a piece of fine jewelry just to pretend that we're engaged.

"What about the ring? This is real gold and real gemstones, Eric! Why didn't you just buy a fake one?" I ask him.

"Wow! How Jewish of you to notice. Why else would I buy you a real engagement ring? You guessed it right: I do want you to marry me. I know we're too young and I know we haven't even been on a real date yet, but I know what I want and that is to spend the rest of my life with you. If travelling the world is what you want to do, I want to be by your side doing it with you."

He walks a little closer to me and takes the ring from my hand prior to kneeling down.

"Will you marry me Kyle? I promise to take care of you and keep you safe. I swear I will never hurt you and that I will do anything in my power to make you the happiest person on the planet." He asks me again.

My heart is pounding hard in my chest and the butterflies in my stomach are fluttering so much and so fast that I'm starting to get dizzy. He wasn't kidding; he was serious all along. He had meticulously planned every last detail to surprise me. This is crazy, insane and unthinkable. But you know what's even more mind blow? I want him that way too!

"Yes Eric, yes I will!" I reply with a smile on my face and tears of joy arising, threatening to stream down my face.

As he hears my answer, Eric slides the ring on my finger and slowly gets back into standing position and kisses me sensually. Just when I thought my life couldn't get any crazier, I just got engaged to Eric Cartman.

* * *

Poor Liane, I cried when I wrote that part. Out of all the moms, Liane is my favorite because she's just such a sweet woman.

Yay! They're engaged!

I wonder how Annie will react? Stay tuned folks :)

Don't forget to review

xoxoxClotgirlxoxox


	10. Shut up and kiss me

Yay! Chapter 10 is finally done! This chapter is very important to me because the first idea from my story happens in this chapter (I will let you know what it is at the end of it.) So Eric and Kyle are engaged and although it escalated quickly, please bear in mind that everything happens for a reason.

The title comes from the song shut up and kiss me by Orianthi

In case you're wondering, my hand is doing much better although it's not fully healed yet. The surgeon told me that if my hand doesn't recover its usual motion range in the next month, I will need to be operated and therefore be out of commission for a little while. I really hope I won't have to go through that because my boss is going to kill me and then kill herself.

Enough about me! Please sit back and enjoy. As usual, reviews are welcome

* * *

"You're such a selfish ass hole! I can't believe that we're already going back to the hotel room! I haven't even had time to buy anything! You know I need more dresses for fucks sake!" Ivy nags and cries.

She's super pissy because I took her to a high end store and since she strongly insisted on paying for her own clothes, she didn't end up buying anything because she's such a Jew. I've always known that she had trouble paying the full price when it comes to clothing, a trait that she most probably has inherited from her mother; stay-at-home Jew moms are the worst when it comes to opening the wallet for any reason other than inserting money into it. I doubt she got it from her father since I know for a fact that he doesn't mind paying up to get quality goods, quite on the contrary: when he pays, he expects perfection. But my little Poison Ivy, she doesn't give a shit about quality: does she really think I will allow a perfect little butterfly like her to wear cheap crappy dresses from Forever 21 or hot topic? Who does she think I am? So here I am receiving a load of shit from my fiancée, who's probably coming down from her speed high, in the back of a cab as we are making our way back to the hotel.

"Ivy, honey, try to be reasonable: I promise we will go back to the mall tomorrow before heading back home so you can go buy all that you need." I reply, trying to sound as reassuring as I can.

"I don't fucking understand why we had to leave the mall so early: they close at seven tonight! I could have gone and gotten anything I wanted! Why the fuck did we have to come back early? Isn't the restaurant reservation at eight o'clock anyways?" She keeps wailing and nagging.

"I'm sorry honey; we have a champagne bottle being delivered to out room for six. You look like you definitely need some to mellow you out: you're being completely bat-shit insane right now." I say again, as soothingly and as calmly as I can, but in vain.

Not that I mind that much, but she just keeps getting angrier and angrier. God, she's so fucking insanely hot when she gets angry that I love pushing her buttons and watch her lose it. If looks could kill, I'd be dead on the ground by now. I glance to the front of the car and notice that the cab driver, an older gentleman in his forties, is getting quite a show whenever he glances into the rear view mirror. I see the reflection of an amused smile drawing itself on his lips from the mirror.

"Women are never happy. She sounds just like my wife when things don't go her way." He says, laughing lightly.

"Kind Sir, you don't know half the story!" I inadvertently mutter under my breath.

"Hey! I'm right here you know!" Ivy screeches, which causes the driver and I to burst into laughter as we pull up in front of _Hotel Teatro._ Ivy just bolts out of the car, making sure to slam the door behind her of course, and heads for the entrance without looking back as I take the time to pay the cab driver.

"Don't worry my friend, she'll come around. She's probably expecting her period or something. Hang in there and good luck!" He says prior to take the money.

"Is she ever... Thanks for the ride and take care." I reply, bidding the driver goodbye.

Since my discovery of Ivy's true identity, I've had to diligently practice the most astounding mental discipline with regards to the gender and identity of meine liebe. I've had to establish a specific thought process to create a clear separation of Kyle and Ivy. I fear that a slip up that could expose the truth and humiliate Kyle, or get Ivy fired from Vatican. In any case, Kyle's cover would be blown and he will never forgive me. If Ivy is out to play, then she's Ivy and I will treat her and refer to her as such. If Kyle is being himself, then he's Kyle and will be treated referred to as such. And as far as I'm concerned, I'm engaged to both of them; at least I think I still am even though Ivy was fucking furious in the car.

I make my way to the suite and surely enough Ivy is already in there chatting up with Antoine, or flirting with him I should say. Antoine seems more than eager to flirt back even going as far as to caress her cheek with his dirty Frenchman hand, but stops immediately upon noticing me glaring at him. He turns a dark shade of crimson as I greet him. I ask him to pour two glasses of Champagne for us and ask him to be on his way as kindly as I humanly can.

"Thank you Mr. Cartman" He says in his thick French accent, taking the crumpled twenty dollar bill from my hand and getting the fuck out of my suite and my sight.

I turn to Ivy, and she's holding her glass and staring at the ceiling, possibly trying to ignore me and being all passive aggressive like the little woman she is. I walk up to her and attempt to kiss her cheek only to be shunned by her downing her champagne in one big gulp. Now she's seriously starting to piss me off with that bitchy attitude of hers.

"You want to tell me what possessed you to flirt with that French butt hole in my suite when you knew I was going to come in at any moment?" I ask, feeling pretty frustrated by her shitty behaviour.

"You want to tell me why you thought it was a good idea to talk shit about me with that stupid cab driver and pretend I wasn't even there?" She retaliates, her emerald eyes glistening like the sea.

"Calm the fuck down! You're being completely unreasonable!" I say, raising my voice.

"Maybe so, but you're being completely selfish! I'm going to have to wear this fucking dress tonight, once again. And tomorrow morning I'll have to wear it too, that is if we do end up going to a reasonably priced store! I'm supposed to fucking work tomorrow and I got nothing decent to wear anymore!" She spits back at me.

"Hai! That doesn't give you any fucking right to flirt with some French douche bag less than three hours after you got engaged to me! Do you have any idea how much it hurt seeing that smug ass hole touch you, let alone the fact that you allowed it?" I literally scream, grabbing Ivy's shoulders and lightly shaking her.

I take a good look at her face: she's looking down at the floor and notice both the anger and the hurt on her face. I slowly take my hands off her shoulders and I watch her lift up her left hand to the level of her eyes and stare at the emerald ring. Her eyes are filling up with tears as she keeps looking at it. Maybe I was a little too rough on her. Seeing sadness on her face breaks my heart. She finally looks up and her eyes meet mine; that's when she practically jumped in my arms.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Ok? I'm just really mad at you and I behaved like a child. I'm so sorry and believe me, I'd never betray you: I'm yours and yours only." She says as reassuringly as she can.

As she brings her lips to mine, we hear a knock on the door. At last, the special delivery I requested has arrived and I can hardly wait to see Ivy's reaction: I think she'll be just a little bit upset, but I'm pretty sure that she'll enjoy the surprise in the end.

"Ivy, how about you go answer the door while I pour you some more bubbles?" I nonchalantly ask her to do as I grab the bottle and start filling up her glass.

I make sure to look in her direction when she opens the door and sees that French douche bag and one of his colleagues carry in about several bags from Neiman Marcus, the high end store we were in earlier. While Ivy was trying on the whole store, I made an arrangement with the manager to start up a bill for me and to have everything shipped here before seven so that my precious Poison Ivy could pick what she is going to wear tonight. I bought her seven dresses and six pairs of shoes: as I said, there's no way in hell that I'll allow my hot fiancée to wear rags from Zara or old navy. Her face is priceless: I've never seen her eyes and her mouth so wide open before as she watches Antoine and the other dude carry in bag after bag after bag. I can't help but smirk when she finally looks at me.

"Eric Theodore Cartman, you are fucking crazy! I told you I wanted to buy my own stuff!" She finally says looking at me straight in the eyes.

"I'm crazy alright! I'm crazy for you Poison Ivy." I reply to her, planting a kiss on her forehead and putting the champagne glass in her hand.

I close the door behind Antoine and the other dude after giving them twenty bucks each and look over at Ivy as she is contemplating all the bags.

"Do you still feel like flirting with Antoine? Or perhaps, you want to try the other guy? Maybe I can go catch them in the hall and you can flirt with the two of them at the same time." I ask, not being able to resist taking this little jab at her insolence since she totally deserves it.

"God damn it! I apologized for that Cartman; there's no need to rub it in." She says after letting out an annoyed sigh.

She starts opening the packages: The black Alexander Wang dress is the first thing she unwraps, followed by the navy Chiara Boni cocktail dress, the violet Oscar de la Renta dress, the black and white Elie Tahari lace dress, the Eileen Fisher cobalt sheath and the Diane Von Furslenberg emerald crepe dress. The last dress she pulls out is a magnificent Monique Lhuillier turquoise guipure lace dress. She lets out a small muffled scream as she brings it close to her.

"Cartman, What the fuck? You got me a ten thousand dollar dress! You're fucking insane!" She says with a big smile on her face.

"That dress looked magnificent on you. Alright, time to open the shoes my love" I say smiling.

She proceeds to unwrap a pair of Stuart Weitzman suede boots, the Manolo Blahnik slouchy booties, the Sophia Webster mesh butterfly booties and pumps, the Valentino studded pumps and finally, the turquoise Christian Louboutin pumps that go perfectly with the Monique Lhuillier dress. Ivy looks up at me and shakes her head.

"Cartman! You spent a fucking fortune on me! I can't even pay you back for all this stuff. You're fucking nuts! I really don't know what to say." She says with a wide grin on her face.

"Just shut up and kiss me." I say, taking her hand and pulling her closer to me.

Her lips meet mine and our tongues start dancing together. I'm so into her and I'm so into Kyle that the fact that they're the same person is actually quite convenient: I get to have both of them. I pick her up in my arms and take her to the bedroom where I delicately set her on the bed and start caressing her back and finally unzip her mom's green dress.

"I got you a little something else" I murmur as a slowly pull away from her lips.

I get up and go fetch a small black bag from the inside of my jacket.

"Victoria Secret?" Ivy asks.

"You'll be surprised what a push up bra and proper undergarments will do for your frame, sweetie. Try it on!" I say, caressing her cheek.

Ivy takes off her mother's dress and puts on the undergarments. The bra gives her the illusion of bosoms, as I suspected and the Brazilian lace panties make her ass look delicious. She decides to wear the Monique Lhuillier dress and the Louboutin pumps for tonight, which makes me incredibly happy since turquoise is an amazing colour on her. As she touches up her make up one last time, I call the front desk in order to request a cab.

* * *

"Casa fucking Bonita? I don't believe it. You have got to be shitting me" Ivy giggles as we take a seat at our table.

"Well, we never ended up coming for your birthday all these years ago, so I figured I owed you since it was mostly my fault that the whole thing got cancelled. There's that, and their enchiladas are fucking sweet!" I say, smiling with anticipation for this meal.

"Of course you'd love their enchiladas, fucking fat ass!" Ivy chuckles.

"Hai! I'm not fat you fucking Jew!" I automatically blurt out.

We both look at each other and just giggle. To be honest, I've never felt happier in my entire life: I'm about to have a nice dinner with the person I love the most in the world to whom I am now engaged. Sure, she was in a very shitty mood a little earlier, but I guess that coming down from speed didn't help her case. I made sure she popped half a pill prior to heading out: the two of us haven't slept in over twenty four hours after all and the night is still young. Ivy and I order some drinks and nachos to start off.

"So Eric, you never told me what you do for Paolucci: I mean, between the eleven thousand you bid on me, the shopping spree, your mom's treatments and everything else, it's quite a huge sum of money." Ivy enquires, her emerald eyes piercing mine.

"Well, there are many things you don't know about Paolucci. I'm going to tell you everything, but you can't tell a soul." I whisper, looking around to make sure no one is eve's dropping.

Our drinks arrive and Ivy nods, so my story telling begins.

"Paolucci is the lord of Park County: all drugs, unregistered weapons and girls go through him. My job consists in moving the goods from Denver and taking them to Park County. I also take care of drug distribution throughout Park County. For instance, I hired Kenny to sell on South Park territory: I provide him with pills, weed and powder then he then sells to make a small profit for himself and he gives me what he owes me after a couple of days. He also distributes at sporting events and to the crack heads who always hang out with his folks." I say, keeping my voice low.

"Oh my God! Eric! What if you get caught?" Ivy says with her voice filled with worry.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take; for my mom and now for you, I'd do anything." I reply softly, giving Ivy's hand a light squeeze.

"I think I'm beginning understand why we've been taking cabs rather than the van since we got here. What did you pick up this time?" Ivy softly asks.

"Assault weapons, some pot to sell to minors, coke and lots of speed and lots of ecstasy: NoDoNoPa is a great neighbourhood for speed and ecstasy, so is SoDoSoPa. All the gentrified places are great for such drugs because of all the night clubs and lounges. The weapons are to be dispatched and sent out all over the state." I say plainly.

"What if I told you that I want in on it?" Ivy says, determination shining in her voice.

"That's out of question: it's too dangerous for a woman to be in that kind of business and if something were to happen to you, I'd go crazy." I firmly reply.

"Well screw you Cartman! You know what I actually have between my legs and if I can tolerate you doing something super dangerous, you'll have to trust that I can hold my own." She replies nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I saw how well you were holding your own in that alley behind Vatican. The fact that I know what's between your legs is another reason you must stay the fuck away from this business all together. Had I not intervened last night, that creep would probably have killed you once he found out your real gender." I reply, feeling anger rise in my gut.

Ivy mutters something under her breath. No, there's no way in hell I'd ever let her do anything that risky. Just the fact that the crazy rapist is still on the loose is making me worried sick, which is why I am so glad that she ended up coming to Denver with me. I'm so happy that I could finally open up about my mother to someone. I am psyched that my long time crush and I are engaged. Twenty-four hours ago, I would have never thought it possible.

"You know what Eric? It's too bad for you, really. I could move firearms a lot more easily as Kyle than you: I'm Jewish, diabetic and my dad is a lawyer. On top of it, I have straight A's in every subject and I keep out of trouble. No one would suspect shit like that coming from me." Ivy says with a wide grin on her face.

Kyle carrying the weapons, huh? I'd say no for the drugs any day, but for the firearms, it's a different story: Kyle has been handling guns since childhood thanks to Stan's uncle Jimbo and I remember him being the best shooter out of the four of us when we were younger. He also knows his guns well, which is a plus and to be quite sincere, most of my carriers couldn't tell the difference between an AK-105 and an AK-12, which is be problematic with most buyers.

"I'll think about it, but don't get your hopes up." I finally end up saying.

Ivy smiles at me and takes my hand in hers and starts rubbing her ankle against my leg. She can be very devious when she wants to.

"Why do you want in so badly? I thought you enjoyed working as a shot girl." I end up asking her.

"As I said, I need the money. Vatican is fun, but I figured that I could help you out like Kenny is. It also appears to me that there's a lot more money to be made in this business than as a shot girl." She says, never ceasing to rub her ankle against my leg.

"You little vixen, you! You can make tons of money at Vatican now that your wardrobe is updated. All you have to do is look sexy and to be pleasant towards the patrons and it's in the bag: guys are fucking stupid and can hardly resist a charming young lady." I say as I drown in those incredible emerald eyes of hers.

I sincerely hope that we won't end up going out tonight. I really can't wait to get back to our suite so I can undress her and get Kyle back. I want to do such dirty things to him and it's his fault entirely: my mind is haunted by that blow job he gave me early this morning. That blow job is what set the whole plan in motion: after I dropped off Kyle, I immediately went home and got that ID printed for Ivy and then I went to the safe and looked for the ring. It used to belong to my grandmother Mabel and to my great grandmother Florence before that. When Kyle admitted his feelings towards me, I couldn't believe it. I can't help but smile thinking of how incredible it is that I'm engaged to my arch nemesis: it's fucking awesome.

"What's up?" Ivy asks.

"For the first time since I was born, my life is fucking perfect." I simply reply.

* * *

We get back to the suite, making out as we get there. I have trouble aiming the key card because of all the kissing Ivy and I are doing. Once I finally manage to get the door open, I pick Ivy up and literally throw her on the couch prior to pouncing on top of her. She moans as my hands run all over her body. I roll off of Ivy so I can also sit on the couch: my erection is showing itself through my pants and Ivy just took the hint. While she unzips my pants and pulls out my manhood, I lift her dress up exposing her perfect little bubble butt. I reach for my coke kit: there's something I've been dying to do since we arrived at this hotel.

"Go on all fours in front of me and make sure my face can reach that tight little ass of yours." I order.

I pull down her underwear and caress her little butt before opening my kit and drawing two coke lines on her ass and promptly snort them. As I feel the rush set it, I decide what I'll do with my little Poison Ivy tonight: I move her to plant another sloppy kiss on her lips, and then grab her head and make her stuff my entire dick in her wet mouth. Hearing her gag and gasp for air further excites me.

"You've been a really bad girl earlier: you made a scene in the cab and then you flirted with a French butt hole. You even dared to allow that douche bag to touch you and that is unacceptable. You need to be punished." I whisper.

I spank her ass as hard as I can, and I hear my little Ivy hiss. She stops sucking me off and raises her head to look at me completely shocked. I spank her again.

"Who the fuck told you to stop?" I ask as she looks at me incredulously.

"Dude! Don't spank me that hard!" She murmurs.

I spank her even harder and tell her to shut up before grabbing her by the nape of the neck and making her stuff my dick back in her mouth again. I can feel her gag on my cock again and that's just fucking perfect.

"I dare you to try to flirt with another guy ever again." I say as I spank her again.

I glance down at her face: my cock is stuffed deep in her mouth and black tears of makeup are streaming down her face. I don't know if the tears are due to all the gagging she's been doing on my cock, or if it's due to the pain from the spanking she's receiving. In any case, she's fucking beautiful with her mouth full. I grab her head with both my hands and start fucking that pretty face of hers and finally blow my load deep in her throat.

Ivy starts coughing and struggles to get up prior to make a run for the bathroom. I can't move right now, nor do I want to. All I want now is Kyle. Ivy comes out of the bathroom mere moments later after her coughing subsided. I take a good look at her: she seems bemused out of her mind. Good! I think she just figured out that misbehaving bears consequences.

"Go wash off that make up of yours! I want Khal, and I want him now!" I order her.

I was expecting her to put up a fight or to want to discuss the punishment she just received, but instead she just flashed me one of her devious smiles through the smeared make up on her face before walking up to me and presenting her back to me.

"May I have a little help please?" She asks, presenting the zipper on the back of her dress.

Being the gentleman I am, I duly comply and zip it down prior to helping her remove the dress. I glance down at her ass: she has a hell of a lot of bruises and the area seems a sore and raw. I gently run my finger through the area and she hisses a bit. She turns around and kisses me which leads me to believe that she enjoyed getting punished like the good little Jew she is.

"What are you waiting for Ivy? Go on: I'm done with you and I want Khal right now." I brashly say after breaking the kiss.

Without saying a word, she goes the bathroom annexed to our room and shortly after, I hear the shower starting to run. I decide that some peeping wouldn't hurt me and make my way to the bathroom noticing that Ivy's garments have all been picked up and neatly put away. It's hot and steamy in the bathroom, but despite the fog, I can see Kyle's thin silhouette through the glass.

"Are you going to stare at me like a fucking pervert, or are you going to join me at some point? It wouldn't hurt you to wash your dick, you know; that Ivy chick probably smeared lip gloss all over it." Kyle says, making a valid point.

Now that he pointed it out, my cock does feel a little sticky. I smile as I swiftly take my clothes off and step into the shower with Kyle. As soon as he heard the door slide, he turned around to face me. He apparently decided that I am incapable of cleaning myself since he's soaping me up and rubbing me like I haven't showered in days, paying special attention to my genitals. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind it at all! As he grooms me, he can't seem to take his sparkling emerald eyes off of my own; I swear he must have been staring at me for a good five minutes and continued to do so even as he started to shampoo my hair. Once all the foam was rinsed off of my hair and skin, he finally broke the stare by closing his eyes and he kisses me tenderly. I've waited too long for this to happen. We finally step out of the shower and I proceed to dry myself as quickly as I can. On the other hand, Kyle is taking his sweet time. Since I have no patience left in me whatsoever, I forcibly grab the towel out of his hands and start drying him myself, being very careful with his ass since it's probably sore. Once I'm done drying him, I pick him up over my shoulder and carry him to the bed.

"Are you ready to get fucked?" I ask him.

"How about I fuck you, fat ass?" He replies in a joking manner.

"Hai! Don't make me spank you too!" I loudly reply; no fat jokes when I'm about to fuck you, Jew!

I gently put him on the bed and order him to turn around as I quickly go grab my coke kit. I'm pretty fucking tired at this point and if I want to fuck Kyle properly, I'm going to need a little bit of help. I draw two more lines on his sore ass and promptly snort them, feeling the burn as the powder enters my nose. I notice there's some white powder left on Kyle's ass and it would be a shame to waste such good produce. I choose to clean it up with my tongue, lapping up as much powder as I can, then decide I want to know what Jewish ass hole tastes like. Kyle lets go of a deep moan as I eat out his ass, which tastes amazing by the way. I would have never thought that Kosher actually tasted good, but I swear I could have some morning, day and night. Now that his tight hole is all wet, I remove my mouth from it and I insert a finger. Kyle's body tenses up as he releases a hiss.

"Relax or it'll hurt. Take deep breaths, I don't want to hurt you." I whisper to him.

As I feel his body relax, I put in a second finger and start fingering him gently, but I slowly pick up the pace as he gets used to it. He starts moaning as the pace gets faster and I feel his anus loosening up a bit; it's time for a third finger to go in. Kyle just keeps moaning and my cock is throbbing in anticipation.

"Go on all fours!" I demand.

Kyle complies and I position myself behind him, making sure to lick his ass hole some more to make it extra wet. I slowly enter him, taking my time so it's not too painful for him. He hisses a little at first, but starts moaning instead once I start jerking his dick off. His ass is incredibly tight and I'm going to need all of my focus not to come right away. I take it nice and slow at first, getting used to his tightness and loosening up his little hole while I keep jerking him off before I start picking up the pace.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Eric! This feels so good! Fuck me harder!" Kyle moans.

My dick just twitched inside him and I'm too scared to come already, so I pull out of his ass, which makes Kyle yelp. I order him to lie on his back: If I'm going to come, I want to it while looking at his face. He quickly complies and I take his legs over my shoulder and I penetrate him again.

"You wanna get fucked hard?" I ask moaning.

"Yeah" he whispers.

I bring my mouth to his and start fucking him as deep and as hard as I can. Kyle is moaning in my mouth as I finally climax, filling his tight little ass with my seed. Despite the fact that I'm out of breath and completely exhausted, I still find the energy to pull out and to take Kyle's dick in my mouth: it's his turn to come. I suck him off, feeling his manhood twitch in my mouth as he moans and groans. Without warning, his seed fills my mouth as he lets out a final deep moan. I swallow his load before crawling next to him and kiss him a final time before the world around me turns black.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

I had this vision of Cartman snorting a line of coke off of Kyle's ass for a while now and that's how Pleasing Falsetto was born. Am I sick in the head? Fuck yeah!

All the dresses and shoes in this chapter actually exist: you can go on the Neiman Marcus website and check them out.

I expect the next chapter to be out early next week, so stay tuned folks!


	11. Down with the sickness

Big announcement my friends: my fiancé and I are buying a house! We're supposed to move in on July 8th, and there are a million things to do: pick the flooring, pick the ceramic tiles, pick the handles, pick the light fixtures, and etc... I'm freaking out right now! It's exciting but scary and stressful at the same time. But enough about me: I don't want to bore you to death!

I finally got this chapter out of my system: it was tough to write and yes, it's another dark chapter...

The song that inspired this chapter is down with the sickness by disturbed.

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter contains a very descriptive and brutal rape scene. The good news is that I will indicate where it starts and ends so that you can skip it if you can't handle it. READ THAT SECTION AT YOUR OWN RISK! You've been warned.

Without further ado, enjoy! Reviews are welcome as usual.

* * *

I squint at the street lamps as we pass them by: they look like sprites passing straight through me, one by one. I've hardly moved my body since I hoped into the car and I'm starting to feel the familiar stiffness in my muscles. I haven't spoken a single word, but Foley knows what he's got to do: he knows what he's paid for and he knows not to cross the line. I may look calm and relaxed on the outside, but on the inside I am boiling mad. I am furious, enraged... livid to no avail. How could I have been so careless, why did I not plan this properly? I ran out of patience and tried to take advantage of an opportunity I thought was golden and it bit me right in the ass. It was a monumental mistake, an unforgiving error and fixing it will be very difficult and will require much creativity. I must meticulously calculate my next strike and that time around, I will not fail, nor will I ever give up because God bear me witness, Eric Cartman will pay for all he's done. My half brother must crumble and be ended by my hand: my own salvation depends on it. How could I ever find inner peace knowing that the fat piece of crap is happy and jolly with that shot girl while I suffocate on my own misery?

"Boss, it would be wise to avoid that lounge for a little while." Foley says.

"Shut the fuck up Foley!" I spit at him. "I'm paying you to drive, not to tell me what to do." I continue as calmly as I can.

"I'm just saying that someone could recognize you and the owner of that place is very protective of his girls. I know he's kicked out and banned a few people for touching his employees inappropriately just once, imagine what he would do if someone tried to rape and abduct one of his girls. I just wouldn't want you to get in trouble, that's all." The ginger replies.

Smart guy that Foley kid: I admire the fact that he realizes that by looking out for my best interests, he's also looking out for his. Out of the three siblings, he's the one I like to deal with the most. I know that the shot girl and my half brother couldn't have seen my face: I took the girl from behind and the fat fuck was too far to see my face with that much darkness. But Foley has a point: one of the clients could have seen me run from the alley and could have recognized me. What if the beefy bouncer saw me? That would be even worst since he could squish me like a bug.

I'm disappointed with myself: my half brother bested me two nights in a row on the bidding and he caught me red handed trying to snatch his girl, and that just fucked everything up. Knowing him, he'll watch her like a hawk or have someone else assure her safety if he can't be around for some reason. I sabotaged the best chance I had to get my sweet revenge because I got too carried away and come to think of it, it's not really surprising: this is far too personal for me to see clearly and more and more I realize that I will need some external help to allow me to keep a cool head so I won't miscalculate again.

"Since you give such wise counsel, my dear Foley, and since I cannot be seen at Vatican anymore, what should be our next move?" I ask.

Foley produces a slanted smile and briefly turns his freckled face to mine.

"Well, if you can't be seen at Vatican, someone will have to go in your place to acquire as much information as possible. Didn't you tell me that some shot girl wanted to help us out?" He replies.

"She is willing to give us information about our lovebirds, but she has a thing for my half brother and I doubt she'd want to get her hands dirty anyways." I admit.

"That's amazing! We have a mole now and all we'll need is someone who will go there on a regular basis as an observer, at first at least: that person will get acquainted to habit patterns from both Cartman and from his girl. Once these behaviour patterns become predictable, the strike will be deadly." Foley replies as he grins like a Cheshire cat.

"That someone can't be you either since the fat ass knows your face and your name. I am unsure as to whom we can trust with this. We need to find someone who hates that fat piece of shit as much as you and I do, Foley." I reply, trying to think of someone.

Foley pulls up in front of my house and parks in my driveway prior to turning to me, still grinning like the cat from the famous Lewis Carol novel.

"I may have the perfect person for us, but I need to verify a few things before introducing him to you. I should be able to get an answer tomorrow or so. I'll keep you posted."

"Very well then, please do. Thank you for all your help." I say, pulling seven hundred dollars from my jacket and handing rolled up bills to my acolyte. "You will get the rest once you find me someone trustworthy. Good night." I continue before getting out of the car.

* * *

\- MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING BEGUINS – SCROLL DOWN TO SKIP OR READ AT YOUR OWN RISK -

* * *

It all paid off! The painful wait is finally over and I owe it all to Foley. He'll be greatly rewarded as soon as I relieve myself. I think I deserve to spoil myself with a little treat before doing anything else.

My half brother is all bloodied and tied up to a chair. I made sure he was well restrained before I slipped on a pair of boxing gloves and started practicing my left and right hooks on his face. I was never into sports, but that was quite a satisfying and fulfilling work out: hearing him whimper and grunt in pain made my cock hard as a rock. Seeing him with a swollen black eye and blood streaming down his face is incredibly satisfying, but I'm not done! I'm far from done; that was just phase one.

I turn his chair around and he immediately starts getting agitated when he sees her. His precious shot girl is tied up, wrists bound together to my bed's headboard and I made sure to duct tape her mouth so that she'd be incapable of screaming while her boyfriend was getting used as my personal punching bag. You see, I didn't want him to know she was here...yet!

My blood engorged dick is throbbing as I walk over to the good looking redhead and once I'm next to her, I tear off her blouse, exposing her lace lingerie adorned breasts. My half brother screams and begs me to leave her alone while she attempts to struggle away as I lick her milky white neck, making my way to her ears which I lightly nibble on prior to ripping the duct off her mouth in one shot causing her to scream out in pain. I try to undo her skirt, but the girl is wiggling around too much, begging me to let her go, and my dick is running out of patience so I pull out my switchblade and put it to her throat as Cartman begs me not to hurt her.

"I'm surprised you never taught your bitch to behave and it's a shame she'll need to be put down if she doesn't start obeying." I say as I lightly brush the blade to her throat.

Cartman's girl took the hint and stopped resisting, finally accepting her fate. She gently starts sobbing and I can't resist licking the tears off her face while the fat piggy screams in desperation. I gently glide the blade from her throat all the way down to her navel, gently tickling her before I get to the skirt and slice it right off of her revealing her black lace panties. The shot girl and I are trembling, but for entirely different reasons: she undoubtedly filled with terror, but I'm filled with excitement and anticipation. I turn her around so she lies on her stomach and I stuff a few pillows under her crotch to elevate her cute tight ass a little higher as spread her legs and position myself behind her and tear her panties off with the help of my switch blade. I accidently cut the girl's right buttock, quite deeply actually, and I notice little blood beads appear, eventually forming a line before starting to stream down like tears and I can't help myself: I start licking off some of her blood as she hisses like a wild animal. I suck and nibble on her wound for some time, enjoying the sweet coppery taste of her blood. The girl cries a little more intensely and my horrified half brother just screams and rages while desperately struggling on his chair; they know what my next move will be, and I can't decide what turns me on the most: the fact that I'm about to fuck a hot girl in the ass, or the combination of their screams and cries. I pull away from her butt cheek, my face covered in her blood and I finally unzip my pants, pull out my rock hard cock and gently rub it against the girl's wound, covering it in her blood: apparently, it makes the best lubricant, and I'm too much of a gentleman to go in dry. I lean down on her and give her a sloppy kiss on the mouth, smearing blood all over her face, before licking her from cheek to ear.

"I hope you understand it's nothing personal." I gently whisper in her ear before straitening myself up.

I align my manhood to the redhead's tight little anus and at this point, she's sobbing uncontrollably and Cartman is losing his mind, unceasingly rocking in his chair. In one quick, deep thrust, I enter her and she screams in pain. I fuck her deep and hard; I need her to be in pain. The more pain she's in, the more my half brother suffers. The girl begs me stop, but the more she begs, the harder I pound her tight little ass and the louder she screams. Cartman begs me to let her go, threatens me out of desperation, and implores me to hurt him instead; and the more he begs, the deeper I fuck her and the more she cries.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

I feel I'm going to come soon, but my fucking phone is ringing.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

I want to blow my load, but my fucking phone keeps ringing.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

I want to fill her ass with my seed, but my phone just keeps ringing.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

Come on, just a little more and I'll get to the point of no return: why won't my fucking phone stop ringing already?

* * *

\- END OF TRIGGER WARNING – YOU MAY READ NORMALLY -

* * *

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

With much difficulty, I manage to open my eyes. Day light is peering however it can through my thick velvet curtains and I hear a few birds chirping outside my window. Despite feeling groggy and lethargic, I have a massive boner and my fucking phone won't stop ringing.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring._

I get up on my feet and struggle to find that fucking thing: It's a brand new iphone and I'm having a bit of trouble getting used to this kind of technology. Before the death of my parents, I had a flip phone and it was the newest, coolest thing on the market, but this touch screen crap sure takes some getting used to. I end up finding the stupid thing on my dresser, next to my Quaalude pills.

 _Ring ring. Ring ring._

And of course, the second I tried to pick up the call, the stupid thing stopped ringing. Fucking piece of garbage! I see it's almost noon and that I have nine missed calls from Foley already. I try to get that thing unlocked, and just as I managed to do it, Foley calls me back once more.

 _Ring ring._

"This better be fucking important, Foley: you just woke me up from the best dream I've had in my entire life." I rudely yell, spitting on my smart phone.

" _Boss, I found us the perfect guy."_

"Who is he? How do you know about him?" I ask.

" _It's a long story. Meet me at Café Monet in an hour so we can discuss this calmly."_

"Excellent. I'll see you in an hour" I reply prior to hanging up.

I don't have very much time to get ready and that stupid morning wood won't calm down. That dream put me in the mood for some rough sex but right now, I don't really have time to do anything about it. The first thing I did when I got released from the mental ward and had full access to my inheritance was to pay for a prostitute. The whole experience was mediocre at best: the slut was completely strung out and just laid there, doing nothing like a star fish. It was seriously like making love to a corpse and I deeply regret blowing a hundred and fifty bucks on that crack whore who wasn't even good looking. She didn't even have the decency to scream for me, that dumb cunt! I suddenly remember that Annie and I exchanged phone numbers last Thursday and she might be just what I need; she does have a sweet little ass. Besides, the worst thing that can happen is that she'd refuse.

 _ **Hi Annie. It's Scott. R u busy tonight?**_

 _Hey Scott! I work until 3:00 AM. Why? What's up?_

 _ **Would u ever consider selling ur body for money?**_

 _It depends to whom and for how much._

 _ **Let's I want u to come by and keep me company after ur shift, how much to make it worth ur while?**_

 _I'll do it for 500._

 _ **Perfect. Come over after your shift: I'll have a cab pick u up and for that price, u better be excellent in the sac.**_

 _Don't worry u won't be disappointed. C u later!_

I better not be disappointed and she better be obedient for that obscene price. I really don't mind paying for quality, but I do mind throwing money out the window. In any case, I'm getting laid tonight and with that settled, I need to get ready for this lunch with Foley. I hope he found me someone who'll be able to get shit done. I am tired of waiting for my sweet revenge and something must be done soon because I'm running out of patience. When I lose patience, I act irrationally like last night. God damn it I was so fucking close!

* * *

I had never been to _Café Monet_ before; it was built after I was committed to the asylum and it's a quaint little place. Foley and I both ordered both order the soup and salad combo with a soft drink and we're both waiting for our meals to be brought to us.

"Alright Foley: talk to me! Who's this guy and what makes him so perfect to join our cause?" I ask.

"What if I told you that someone else was just released back into society and that this person is also seeking revenge on Eric Cartman?" Foley asks with wide grin planted on his face.

"I'd be completely shocked. How did you hear about this guy?" I say as I smile back at the ginger.

How many lives has Cartman destroyed? He robbed me of the best years of my life: I never got to graduate high school and therefore had no prom. I never got my driver's license and never got to make out with a girl in the back of my first car. I never got to go to college and join a fraternity. I never got piss drunk at a dorm party and I'll never fucking get to. I wasted eight of the most important years of my life in a fucking cage being asked the same fucking question day after day after day. And now, there's another guy who got denied the same life experiences as me because of that fat fuck? This is priceless!

"My sister Elizabeth had been writing to this dude in juvenile hall for the past few years and he just got out. Eric Cartman is one of the reasons he went to jail in the first place and the guy really wants his head at all cost." He adds, still smirking.

I have a feeling this guy and I will get along just fine. Cartman destroyed both of our lives after all... there's a deep level of connectivity right there! I'm looking forward to know his story.

"He sounds like a perfect match! Did you speak with him?" I ask.

"Yes boss! I spoke to him alright but there's just a thing, a tiny little detail: this guy is willing to help us out, but he doesn't just want your half brother's head, he has four other targets which are all friends with Cartman. Is that a problem with you?" he asks, raising his eyebrow.

I have to make sure Cartman is his first target: if he goes for someone else first and gets caught, that would bring me back to square one. I will most likely ask him to help me with my half brother first, and then I'll be willing to help him with the other guys he's after, whomever they are.

"I don't give a flying fuck about the others, so long as Cartman goes down first"

"That's fair enough boss: I had a feeling you'd say that, but I just needed to double check with you before I arrange a meeting for the two of you."

"Compensation wise, what does he want?" I ask.

"He doesn't want anything monetary; all he wants is revenge." He specifies, still grinning from ear to ear.

The more Foley tells me about this individual, the more I feel as though I found my soul mate. I was expecting Foley to find me someone that'd be in it solely for the money, but the fact that this dude is also in it for revenge greatly pleases me.

"That's fine by me. Do me a favor: arrange this meeting with him as soon as possible, preferably for tomorrow around lunch time or early in the afternoon." I demand.

"Why not later tonight? It's not like you'll be going to Vatican anyways." He asks.

"I have something scheduled already. You see, when you called me earlier, I was having the most glorious dream I've ever had and I really need to relieve some tension. I have a girl coming over to keep me some company." I reply.

Foley snickers at my words

"I hope she'll be better than the last whore you got yourself: I remember you saying that she was a total waste of money!" He adds, grinning at me.

The waitress finally arrives with our food and Foley goes on to tell me how interested this guy sounded about this whole ordeal. I'm very excited too: the prospect of working with someone who's been through the same bull shit as I was is very interesting. Sure, the Foleys have done, and are still doing great work for me, and I am fully grateful to the three of them. But they do it for money, not that there's anything wrong with that, quite on the contrary: they have worked hard for me and therefore deserve every single penny they've gotten from me. This new guy will work with me because we have a common goal and reaching that goal is so important that we don't care about anything else. Now all that's left for me to do is to meet this guy and I can't fucking wait.

"Come in Annie, welcome to my home." I greet the ginger girl as she walks into my house.

I inherited my parent's house and it still feels weird to be back here without them around. When I was first institutionalized back when I was fifteen, the state assigned me a tutor to manage my inheritance, including this house, until I either reached the age of majority or upon my release depending on which came first. The week before I was discharged from the mental ward, I contacted my tutor and gave him specific instructions for this house: I wanted the darkest window shades on the market and I wanted all pictures of my parents removed by fear that seeing them might trigger a strong emotional reaction. I also asked him to get rid of their bedroom furniture and their personal belongings such as clothing. I will eventually refurnish the house fully once my vendetta is complete.

The ginger girl gracefully takes off her luxurious fox coat and delicately hangs it on the coat rack. She is wearing a short teal frilly dress which makes her look like a juicy piece of candy that I can't wait to unwrap and a delicate set of pearls adorn her neck and ears. Her shoulder-length curls have been pulled back by an off white headband and she's wearing delicate white Mary Janes. Without saying a word, I pull her close to me and put my lips to hers as I unzip her dress, making it promptly slip off her body and land on the floor revealing a delicate black and white pinstriped bra with its matching panties.

"Do you like what you see?" She asks sensually after pulling away from the kiss, her voice feeling almost like satin to my ears.

I smile at her, nodding in approval. She looks fucking hot and I'm feeling my cock grow bigger by the second. She brings her lovely lips to mine once again and kisses passionately before pulling away once more.

"Wait until you see what I can do" She whispers in my ears.

At this point, I can't wait anymore: I swiftly pick her up, throw her over my shoulder like a fucking caveman would and take her to my room. Annie giggles the entire time until I throw her on my bed and pounce on top of her. I originally wanted to ask her questions about Cartman and his girl, but that can wait until later. I start kissing her passionately while she takes off my pants, revealing my pussy hungry cock. She breaks the kiss and hungrily stuffs my entire manhood in her mouth, almost down her throat. She wasn't lying when she said I wouldn't be disappointed; the girl knows what she's doing and it isn't long before I pull my dick out of her mouth and come all over her face and hair. She was surprised my move, but she didn't bitch: the girl knows what she's paid for, and although that blow job felt amazing, it was nothing but a mere warm up. I get up to go fetch a towel for her.

"Go take a shower Annie and by the way, I'm not finished with you. I have a few questions about Cartman and your colleague and then, we're going for round two, possibly even a round three; you're not going anywhere until the morning, understood?" I say to her as I throw her the towel.

"Sure thing Scott, but it'll cost you double." She slyly replies.

"I couldn't care less. Go shower and make it quick" I immediately order.

Annie smiles at me, her face still covered in my seed. Without saying another word, she gets up and makes her way to the bathroom. I fetch a black terry robe for Annie from my closet; I used to wear many years ago, back when my life was happy and normal. I also take the time to open a bottle of Shiraz and pour two glasses for us: if I'm going to fuck her all night long, may as well do it in style, right? Annie finally comes out of the shower, semen and make up free: she's actually prettier without all the colours on her face. She lets the towel slip off her when I hand her the robe and puts it on before taking the glass of wine from my hand. The two of us sit on my bed for a bit.

"To a night of fun!" I declare, clinking my glass to hers.

She gives me a smirk and immediately downs her glass and pours herself another one, which is fine by me: as long as she does what she has to do, I really don't care.

"How was Ivy tonight? Did she behave strangely?" I ask sincerely hoping that Ivy kept her mouth shut about what went down in the alley the night before.

"Ivy didn't come in: Eric took her on a romantic getaway to Denver! Aren't they absolutely sweet and adorable?" She replies very sarcastically.

"You must be disappointed."

"Pissed off is the word that best describes it!" She spits.

"Listen Annie, I won't be going to Vatican for a little while. I have my reasons, but I'm potentially getting a new partner soon and you'll be dealing with him going forward. You'll tell him every bit of information you have on Cartman and his little shot girl. You will meet him very soon." I say, twirling my wine.

Annie nods and downs her second glass of wine and pours herself yet another one: I regret opening such a good bottle. Had I known it would have been wasted in that fashion, I would have given her cheap beer. I get that she may self-medicate by drinking and I understand her pain and her frustration, but she needs to get over him. She'll be happier once Eric is wiped out for good. I take her glass and put it on my night table along with mine before embracing her. I'm ready for round two.

* * *

One in the afternoon is a great time to get the day started: I hadn't made pancakes since the death of my parents and I'm looking forward to make some as soon as Annie steps out of the shower. The coffee is brewing, the sun is shining outside and Foley texted me to tell me that I was to meet the guy at three o'clock. Foley is on his way to pick up the rest of his cash since he kept his end of the deal and I figured that he could have some breakfast with Annie and I so that the two of them could meet: we're all on the same team now, so may as well have them acquainted. Speak of the devil; Foley is pulling up in my driveway right now. I go open the door for him and hand him his cash immediately after greeting him. We both go to the kitchen and Foley inexplicably flips his shit when he sees Annie, in my black terry robe, pouring herself some coffee.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He screams at her.

Annie looks like a deer caught in the head lights with her wide open eyes and her face turning a dark shade of crimson. Foley walks up to her and slaps her across the face. Annie stumbles back and almost falls. I immediately grab Foley by the shoulders as I see him trying to get too close to her.

"Annabelle Foley, how could you do this? Your father will kill you when he finds out you're a dirty fucking slut!" He yells at the top of his lungs.

Despite the fact that he's great help to me, he's behaviour is unacceptable. Wait a second... Annabelle Foley?

"Foley, that's enough! Don't treat Annie like this: she's on our side." I quickly interject.

"Annie? Wait, Annie as in the shot girl? Annabelle is also a sexy shot girl? Jesus Christ! This can't be happening." He covers his face, most likely out of shame.

"Please don't tell my dad. I need this money to go to University: it's the only reason I'm working as a shot girl. You know I want to be a doctor and school is so expensive; my parents can't afford to send me to a good college." Annie cries.

"I can deal with you being a sexy shot girl, but I can't accept you selling your body!" Foley screams.

Silence settles in. I'm pretty pissed at Foley for snapping like this at Annie. I don't know what the relation is between the two of them, but I'm planning to find out.

"Where do you guys know each other from?" I investigate.

"Annabelle is my cousin, boss." Foley replies in a grave tone.

Annie has been staring at the floor ever since Foley snapped at her. I guess it must be terribly humiliating to be caught by her cousin mere hours after she performed the craziest sexual acts for money and on his boss nonetheless. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there's no point to fight amongst us, not when our common enemy is out happily prancing around with his hot shot girl. The goal is to annihilate Cartman, not fight amongst ourselves.

"Foley, you're going to need to get over it. I pay you do get shit done for me, and I pay Annie to do different stuff for me. You're both very valuable to me and we all have a common goal: let's not get distracted. Fuck this up, and you will live to regret it. Understood? Annie, this goes for you too." I bark.

Foley nods and I'm glad he could come to his senses quickly. Annie looks up at both of us and takes a few steps towards her cousin. She extends her hand to him as a gesture of peace.

"You may not agree with my current lifestyle and you may not like the way I make a living, but please bear in mind that I'm doing it for the greater good. Keep quiet about what I do and I won't tell your parents what you do. I think it's a fair deal." She says to her cousin, her hand still extended towards him.

Foley ends up shaking her hand and nodding once more. I can tell he loathes what Annie does, but he can't say shit: I fucked the living shit out of her and I'm sure as hell planning to request her services again in the future.

"Alright boss, remember that you're meeting the new guy at three. The two of you will meet at Starshmucks and I provided him with a picture of yourself, so he'll find you. I know you guys will get along just fine." Says Foley, pulling his car keys from his pocket.

"You're not staying for pancakes?" I ask.

"No thank you boss. My appetite suddenly vanished." He sarcastically says, making his way to the door.

* * *

Shit is getting real! Who's the mystery guy Scott will hire? Stay tuned to find out!

Don't forget to review!

Xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	12. Semi-charmed life

Hi everyone!

I wrote this chapter really fast because I have a lot of trouble sleeping since my fiancé and I bought the house, so I spend a good portion of the night writing.

I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are always welcome!

* * *

It's been thirty nine hours since Eric took me home to get my insulin shot and twenty five hours since he saved me from a potential rapist in the alley behind Vatican. Twenty two hours ago, Eric found out the truth about Ivy and sixteen hours ago, I found out the truth about his mother. Eric Cartman and I have been engaged for thirteen hours and it's been four hours since I lost my virginity to him. I must say that everything seems incredibly surreal, almost like a dream. Only it's not a dream because I'm in a five stars hotel suite lying next to him in a king sized bed, the two of us still naked. Despite the fact that I feel exhausted, completely drained of all energy and although I haven't slept in almost forty eight hours, I am completely restless. My mouth is drier than all the deserts on Earth and no amount of water seems to quench my thirst. My head is killing me, I feel like I've been hit a truck and to make matters even worst, my ass fucking hurts! I tried sitting down on the couch a little earlier to watch a bit of television only to experience a sharp pain where Eric spanked me. The ride back to South Park will be long and painful, that's a guarantee!

Eric pretty much collapsed and started snoring immediately after I blew my load in his mouth and I must admit that I envy him very much for that. I should have never taken more speed and truth be told, I hope I never touch the damn thing ever again: I feel like shit right now and quite frankly, the high from it is really not worth it. The problem is that with my new job and the schedule I have, not taking speed is not really an option. Going to work will suck balls tonight, but going to school tomorrow will be fucking brutal, unless of course I manage to get some sleep this afternoon. If I don't get some sleep, I'll have to resort to taking these fucking pills again.

I must admit that Eric looks adorable when he sleeps: he looks peaceful and innocent. He's sleeping on his stomach with half of his face buried in the hotel's fluffy pillow and I notice that he's drooling a little bit. Back when we were children and Stan, Kenny, Cartman and I had sleepovers, I remember Eric was the only one who snored and he still does, only much louder.

Notwithstanding the fact that I feel like pure utter crap, I'm also bored out of my mind. I tried reading a few chapters from 1984, since we have to write an essay on it which is due in about two weeks and even though it's a really good read, I don't have the focus required to understand what the fuck is going on. I tried going on social media, but at four o'clock in the morning, not many people are posting shit. I tried to play some freemium games until I was prompted to buy more tokens, and call me a Jew if you must, but I'm not going to pay to play such shitty games: my name is not Stan Marsh! I finally have a great idea, which is to look for ways to counter the nasty come down from the speed. According to what I see online, I have to drink plenty of water and eat a big meal. I'm not really hungry, but I see how a big greasy breakfast could help. I could always order room service, but the problem is that the hotel staff thinks that Mr. Cartman is in with his wife, and now that I took a shower and all, I don't really feel like dressing up as Ivy at four o'clock in the morning. I could always throw the wig on with one of the hotel robes that were provided for us.

My better judgement, if I have any left, is telling me that my body wants to feel better and that I should get up to order something to eat. I try to roll myself out of bed in order to avoid having to sit on my sore ass, but as the klutz I am, I end up rolling right off the bed and hit the floor on my sore ass anyways, making matters much worse. I let go of a muffled scream as the pain shoots up from my poor battered butt directly to my brain. As I struggle to try to get myself up, I hear Eric moving in the bed, and then I see his head peeking from the mattress and we end up face to face. Eric seems confused.

"Khal? What the fuck are you doing on the floor?" He says prior to lazily yawning.

"I tried to roll out of bed to go order some breakfast: I feel like shit and I read online that the best way to get rid of the come down is to eat a big greasy meal." I reply.

Eric just bursts into laughter, and I'm not surprised at all nor do I blame him. I'd laugh too if I heard him fall right off the bed.

"You rolled out of bed?" He says still giggling.

"Yes Eric! I rolled out of bed because I can't sit up: my ass fucking hurts because of you!" I say, getting a little annoyed.

Unsurprisingly, Eric bursts into laughter again. Sometimes, I wonder why I never learn when I should just shut up. I painfully get up and stumble out the room to go find the room service menu. I hear Eric following right behind me.

"Ish! I'm sorry Kyle! I did do a number on your ass: it's fucking purple! Here, let me kiss it better." He says.

I turn my head around and surely enough Cartman is kneeling down and kissing my ass. He gets up and brings his lips to my forehead for a quick kiss as he wraps his arms around me.

"What do you feel like ordering?" He then asks.

"Something huge and greasy as fuck and a gallon of water: I'm incredibly thirsty and nothing seems to quench my thirst." I brashly reply.

"You sound like you need some eggs and bacon." He stupidly suggests. Is he doing it on purpose?

"God damn it Cartman! You should know by now that bacon isn't kosher." I practically spit back at him.

"God damn it Khal! I've seen you and your parents eat bacon, ham and seafood in the past. On top of it, you had some meat at Casa Bonita last night. The meat there isn't Kosher, let alone the fact that you mixed it with cheese. Are you trying to get pissed off just for the sake of it, or did you have a kosher epiphany while I was sleeping?"

Ok, now he's pissing me off! It's true: I did eat bacon when I was younger. Back when I was a kid, my family wasn't as devout as it is now and although we always did keep the house kosher, we used to cheat if we were at someone else's house or in a restaurant. My father was especially fond of lobster and shrimp whereas my mother always preferred bacon and oysters, but after my bar mitzvah we sat down and decided as a family to make an effort and at least drop the pork and seafood. Yes, I did mix cheese and non-kosher meat last night. Is it hypocrisy? Sure it is! Am I pissed at Cartman for pointing it out? Hell yes, I am! Do I like bacon? I haven't touched it in the past three years, but I remember loving it as a child!

"Cartman, I fucking hate you! I'll have my eggs sunny side up." I finally manage to reply, feeling a little defeated.

I make my way back to the bed and jump on it, landing on my stomach of course, and I throw a pillow over my head. Why do I always cave in when it comes to Eric? I caved in for Denver, I caved in when it came to taking speed although I regret it now, I caved in when he proposed, and now I'm caving in for bacon. I can start to detect a pattern, and I'm not sure I like it. It just dawned on me that I am completely powerless in front of him and I'm incapable of holding my own ground anymore. I can hear him placing the order from the living room area and at the same time I hear a faint little voice in my head telling me that I should have never trusted him. The little voice goes on and reminds me of all the times Cartman went out of his way in order to humiliate and hurt me: he gave me AIDS, followed me across the country to make me suck his balls, made a fool of me at a Nuggets game by singing _I swear_ on the megatron and made all the girls believe that he and I were a couple. Now, another voice in my head is telling me to calm the fuck down and to think about it for a moment: he gave me AIDS because I laughed at him when he was diagnosed with the HIV virus; he followed me across the country because we made a bet and I lost it, not to mention that I did indeed willingly suck his balls twenty four hours ago; when he sang at the nuggets game and when he told all the girls we were a couple, it was nothing but epic foreshadowing on his part. As for other shit he put me through, we were kids and he hasn't done anything intentionally malicious to me in years.

"Khal?" Cartman says as he walks in the bedroom, startling me.

"What?" I murmur as I take the pillow off of my head.

"I want you to know that I really didn't want to upset you and that if I did, I'm really sorry."

"Why would you be sorry? You're totally right: it's stupid to give up pork if I eat beef and chicken that aren't kosher. I know you have very little respect for Jewish traditions and quite frankly, I don't understand why you're with me out of all people." I reply in a monotone voice.

"Oh boy! I had a feeling this would be brought up at some point." Eric starts after sighing deeply.

"Khal, I was a dumb ass kid, OK! I was brought up Catholic and then one day, I saw The Passion by Mel Gibson and it pissed me off that Jews killed Jesus in the movie. Eventually, I grew up and I started questioning everything I was taught and told, and I started doing my own research. I looked into various religions, ideologies and economic doctrines and came to the conclusion that they are mere tools of manipulation to control people and therefore resources." He continues.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that religions are based on books that were written millennia ago and although their teachings made sense at the time, they are completely irrelevant and obsolete nowadays. It made sense Jews and Muslims not to eat pork back then since the meat spoils too easily and it could have been deadly in the desert. Nowadays we have refrigerators, so not eating pork is no longer a question of survival but simply a tradition that's been carried on for generations, and who the fuck am I to mock what your ancestors have been doing for thousands of years. I'm really sorry for offending you." He finally concludes.

I am absolutely dumbfounded by his speech. I never thought in a million years that I'd hear something that smart and thought up coming out of his mouth. All the doubts I had mere moments as well as that stupid little voice in my head are gone. Once again, I realize that I've misjudged him and that he did change. I sigh loudly as I turn to face him: he looks at me tenderly for a few moments before he leans in closer to me and plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. That little token of affection put a smile on my face.

"Eric Theodore Cartman, when did you become so wise?" I ask him teasingly.

"The day I admitted to myself that I loved you." He replies in a murmur, bringing his lips to mine.

We both hear a knock on the door: I guess my bacon is here. Eric throws on one of the terry robes provided by the hotel and instructs me to do the same before he shuts the bedroom's doors so I can remain hidden as he accepts the food.

"Alright meine liebe! Your breakfast is here!" I hear him calling.

I make my way to the living room area and notice he ordered quite a variety of foods, all served in separate plates: my two sunny side up eggs, three pancakes, a bunch of bacon slices, hash brown potato patties, toast, fresh fruits and cheeses. He even ended up ordering me an actual water gallon.

"How come you ordered so much food? I'm never going to be able to eat all of this!" I exclaim.

"I'm the designated fat ass, remember? I made sure to tell them to prepare everything separately so that the kosher stuff remains kosher for you." He says with a smirk.

"Wow Eric! Thank you for being considerate." I say, completely baffled.

* * *

My ass hurts less than I expected it to. We're about an hour away from South Park and I'm glad Eric took me on this little escapade to Denver. I ended up eating a shit ton of food this morning, including some bacon and I feel much better now. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid to give up bacon in the first place. I guess that the reason I did it was that after the bar mitzvah ceremony, I was to be held accountable for my actions and I wanted to be a good little Jew so my family could be proud of me. Where did that get me? It got me to be a shot girl at Vatican who's engaged to an ex-Nazi in order to escape my controlling father. I'll take the bacon over the law firm any day, thank you very much. Cartman and I spoke about how he became a skeptic and how he keeps being an ass hole to people because he doesn't trust anyone. He's a lot more sensitive than I would have ever imagined and I can totally see how his trust issues had to be linked to his upbringing. I'm glad he was at least able to open up to me.

I'm happy that I was able to get a few hours of sleep after I ate breakfast: Eric gave me some xanax to help me sleep. Within fifteen minutes of taking it, I was already drifting away to sleep. I woke up feeling a little drowsy, but it's apparently normal and I feel much better than I did earlier. We left the hotel around one o'clock in the afternoon and stopped by to see Ms. Cartman again. The poor woman was completely drained from the chemo treatment she received yesterday and was barely awake during our visit. Despite her pitiful state, she did notice the ring on my finger as the ring that's been passed down in her family. Cartman told her about the engagement and she smiled, congratulating us although she thinks we're still too young to get married. She suggested we take it nice and slow and to have a long engagement rather than rush to tie the knot. Eric and I welcomed her recommendation since we both agree that our relationship was moving much too fast for it to be healthy.

Stan sent me a text message a little earlier asking me if I wanted to go over to his place for dinner and to hang out for a bit. He implied that he had big news to share with me, so I assume Wendy and him are back together. To Eric's annoyance, I gladly accepted to see my super best friend prior to going to work. I haven't hung out with him since Wednesday and I don't really want the two of us to drift apart, especially if he is indeed back with Wendy since she tends to monopolize his time.

Cartman made it clear that he was driving me to and from work and that I had no say in the matter. We both agreed that we'd sleep together every night until my parents come back and that we'll alternate between houses. All of Ivy's clothes would be kept at Eric's house, in his mom's closet so to not arise any suspicions. Eric and I also decided that it would be wise to keep our relationship a secret from the other kids at school for the time being, including Stan, Kenny and Butters.

Although my mom asked me not to have a party, I feel I should at least organise a get together or a sleepover and have the guys over to play videogames, or watch dumb ass movies or play board games just like when we were kids. We haven't done anything of the sort in years and I think it's long overdue and Eric actually agrees with this.

* * *

"Dude! Where were you all week-end? I went over to your house yesterday and rang the doorbell, like, fifty times and no one answered!" My super best friend asks.

"Oh man! It's a long story: my aunt basically broke her hip and I had to take my parents and my little brother to the airport yesterday because they're going to take care of her in Connecticut. Since I was already going to Denver, I figured I'd just spend the rest of the day there and I spent the night." I nervously reply.

"Ah man! It sucks for your aunt! Why didn't you tell me? I would have came and hung out in Denver with you!" He quickly replies.

"I don't know Stan, I just didn't think of it." I shyly reply, hoping I don't come off as an inconsiderate ass hole.

"Whatever dude! Nothing we can do about it now anyways." He nonchalantly replies.

"I was thinking of organizing a get together at my place since I have the house to myself. I was thinking of a board game night or a video game night where we could just chill."

"That sounds pretty neat! I could ask Shelley's dumb ass boyfriend to buy some booze for us. Who would be there other than you and me?"

"Well, I was thinking of inviting Kenny and Cartman. Maybe I should invite Butters too."

"Inviting Kenny and even Butters makes total sense, but do you really want Cartman in your house? All you guys ever do is fight." He replies, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, we'll see."

I follow Stan to the basement where he promptly turns on his old television and puts the Canada Channel on. Unsurprisingly, they're playing old Terrance and Philip's reruns which makes me smile: it reminds me of a time where life was simple. Back then, I didn't have to worry about escaping this town and my days were filled with laughter, joy and silly adventures. The guys and I have been through a lot when we were children: we went to space a few times, we went to Afghanistan to return a goat whom turned out to be Stevie Nicks, we were almost taken over by crab people and despite all those crazy circumstances, nothing we ever did or witnessed can top off the level of crazy my life has been in these past few days. Being here with Stan almost makes it seem as though there's some normality back in my life.

"So what is the big news you wanted to give me? Are you and Wendy back together?" I ask, teasing my super best friend just a little bit by nudging him with my elbow.

I imagined he'd be a little surprised that I figured him out, but instead he just blushes and smiles.

"Well yeah, I guess we're kind of back together. She kissed me Friday night. I swear to God, I missed her sweet lips on mine." He softly says.

"You're hopeless! And to think that for a moment I was expecting actual news!" I reply giggling.

"That wasn't what I wanted to tell you though and quite frankly, I told myself I wasn't going to tell anyone since it's something private, but I want my best friend to know." He says, blushing even further.

"Huh? Ok, I'll bite: what is it?" I ask him as I am both surprised and curious.

"Oh man! Here it goes: Wendy and I finally had sex last night!" He replies in a whisper as he hides his face in his hands.

Holy crap! I was totally not expecting that! I can't believe that my best friend and I lost our virginities on the same night. Stan has always been a nervous wreck whenever Wendy is merely close to him and it took him years to stop puking every time she spoke to him which is why I find this so incredible. I would have at least expected them to wait until their relationship was made official prior to do the nasty.

"Congratulations Dude! How does it feel? How was it?" I reply as I smile.

"Holy shit Kyle! It was the most amazing thing on Earth! I always thought that bodily fluids were gross until last night: Wendy squirted so much and so potently that I think she got some on my wall." He says, all starry eyed.

"That's fucking gross, Stan! I'm never going in your room ever again!" I say giggling although I feel quite appalled.

"Oh! Come on, Kyle! You may say this now, but wait until you find a girl that you're so into that you'll gladly drink up her squirt." He replies, almost whispering the last part as his face turns redder and redder

That is fucking disgusting! I can't help but gag a little bit at that thought. Don't get me wrong: I can totally admit that Wendy is an attractive girl and I've always admired her intelligence and her outspokenness, but I didn't want to know about her squirting all over my best friend. How the fuck will I ever look her in the eye now that I have the most appalling mental image engraved in my mind.

"Dude! That's fucking vile! That's too much information!" I reply, trying not to throw up in my mouth.

"Just wait until you meet your girl and you'll be singing a different tune!" Stan flatly says.

"Yeah, about that... Stan, that'll never happen." I admit. I think it's time I tell him the truth about my sexual orientation.

"And how would you know?" He replies with a smirk.

"Stan, I'm not into girls." I confess.

"I know you're really into studying now, but eventually you will be." He rebukes.

"God damn it Stan! I'm gay! I'll never be attracted to girls!" I end up blurting out.

Stan's jaw drops as he slowly turns his head towards me and I feel a rush of blood to my cheeks. His face went completely pale and he just stares at me without muttering a single sound. In other words, my super best friend looks like he just saw a ghost.

"Whoa dude! I was totally not expecting that. I'm glad you told me Kyle." He finally manages to says.

"I'm glad I told you too, but I'll ask you to keep it quiet for a while: my parents are still in the dark about this."

"No problem! I mean out of our friends, Kenny and Butters wouldn't give a shit, but Cartman would go to town on your ass."

I burst into laughter at that. It's a shame that I can't tell my best friend that Eric literally went to town on my ass last night and that it's still a little sore from it. Stan starts laughing with me, not knowing why I truly am laughing which makes the whole ordeal even funnier. Once our laughter subsides, Stan starts asking me what I assume are the usual annoying questions: _How long have you known that you're gay?_ How long have you known that you're straight? _Is there guy you have a crush on in school?_ As if I'm going to tell you! _Does that mean you have a crush on me?_ Eww! You're practically a brother to me! I find most of his questions quite annoying to answer and when Mrs Marsh finally calls us for dinner, I feel completely relieved.

* * *

"Well, look who's back at Vatican; good evening Ivy, how are you? I hope you had fun on your night off." Says Mike as he greets me with a grin and a wink.

"Hi Mike! I'm good, and you?" I reply with my trade mark falsetto.

"I'm excellent! Listen, the prize list for tonight is posted in Tony's office. Make sure you go check it out before you go to the lounge."

I'm quite relieved to be back at work; I left Stan's house shortly after dinner. I would have stayed longer, but he kept pestering me with his stupid questions about what kind of guys I'm into. I get that he's curious and he tries to be supportive, but it was getting a little too overwhelming for my comfort level. I'll have to bring it up to him at some point because I know he has no malicious intents. I went directly to Eric's house upon leaving Stan's in order to get ready for work and I was shocked to find that his house was spotless: I had figured that with his mom not being there to clean up after him, his house would be a pigsty. I asked Eric for more speed so I can get through my shift without falling asleep and he gave me an orange and white capsule. He informs me that it's adderall and that it's chemically similar to speed, but not as strong. I decided to wear my new navy cocktail dress and the beige suede boots for tonight, choice that Eric finds excellent I must add. Being over protective of me, Eric dropped me at the door and waited until Mike acknowledged me before taking off in his mom's van. He said he had to go run a quick errand, but he'd be back before the end of my shift. After dropping off my jacket in the locker room, I go check out the prize list that Mike told me about. The members of the winning team will be able to select from the offered prizes:

A 500$ shopping spree at any mall in Park County

A day at the Spa for two

A make over from a local beauty salon

Exotic 1

Exotic 2

"Hi Ivy! Come! There's someone you need to meet!" says Ashley, totally startling me.

She grabs my hand and leads me to the lounge area, where I follow her behind the bar where the rest of the staff is including a raven haired girl I haven't met yet.

"Ivy, this is Gloria. She started here as a shot girl about a year ago and she's going to help me out by waiting tables from now on. She was on vacation and only came back last night which is why you haven't met her yet. Gloria, this is Ivy, your replacement. She's super sweet." Ashley says, thus formally introducing us.

Gloria is almost as good looking as Mia: she has long raven hair down to her butt and spectacular emerald eyes. Just like Mia, she's incredibly thin and very classy looking. She's wearing a red skin tight dress and black varnished stilettos. Come to think of it, she looks almost identical to Mia, but perhaps a little older. We smile at each other as we shake hands.

"Oh! So you're the lucky one that succeeded where some of us failed. It's an honour to meet you, really." Gloria says giggling.

I wonder what Gloria means by that. Everyone starts giggling like school girls, except of course for Annie who just glares at me like she wants to kill me.

"So, how was Denver? Did you and Eric have fun?" Mia asks in a teasing manner.

"How did you girls know about this?" I ask, completely baffled.

"Well, we were waiting for you to come in on Saturday and some of us started getting worried until Tony told us that Eric was taking you on a romantic escapade to Denver." Mia replies winking at me unceasingly.

"It was really nice, thanks girls." I reply as I bring my hands to my face to try to hide my burning cheeks.

"Oh my God! What's that on your finger? You weren't wearing that last week; I would have noticed such a pretty ring!" Chastity practically squeals as she grabs my hand to get a better look at my emerald ring.

At this point, my whole face is burning and my knees feel a little shaky. I debate whether I should tell them about the engagement or not, but I'm not sure what Eric would prefer I disclose it at work: the two of us have the same boss after all. Speak of the Devil; Paolucci is approaching the bar with a wide grin on his face as he stares at me and only me. He comes behind the bar and opens his arms and hugs me so tightly that I can't breathe for a moment or two.

"Felicitazioni! Congratulations my sweet Eevee! I am so happy for you and Eric. May you enjoy a happy and peaceful life together and may God bless you with as many children as you want." He exclaims as his eyes shine with joy.

All the girls start squealing and clapping and basically pile up on Tony and I to give me a group hug, except for Annie of course. Instead, she lets out a groan and mumbles _this is fucking bullshit_ and in any case, I wouldn't expect any less from that bitch anyways. The girls finish congratulating me and I am finally being released from that suffocating group hug as Tony announces the teams for improvisation night.

"Alright young ladies, listen up: Annie, Christa and Gloria will be on the red team and Mia, Chastity and Eevee will be on the blue team. I will give each team a topic drawn at random from a hat and you will have two minutes to prepare your skit. At the end of each skit, the crowd will vote and we will do this seven times throughout the night and whichever team gets voted the most times will win. The members of the winning team will pick a prize from the list which is posted in my office." He explains in his thick Italian accent.

Lola and Gloria start strapping in our bottles and thus, our shift starts. Tonight, I have Irish cream and Goldschläger for seven bucks. Chastity informs me that Mia and Gloria are sisters, Mia being the youngest one. That explains why they look alike so much. I start going from table to table using my usual route which consists of going around the booths first and then do the tables in the middle later. Glancing around the room, I notice Annie is sitting down at a table with a fairly good looking blond guy and she seems completely captivated by him. The two of them are talking and I see Annie resting her hand on his and the guy seems to actually welcome physical contact. I really hope that by finding a new guy to obsess about she'll finally stop being such a bitch to me. The patrons are really enjoying the Goldschläger tonight and I make my way to the bar to get another one before starting the second row of booths. Lola, Christa and Gloria smile as they see me approach the bar with the empty bottle in my hands.

"Goldschläger is a hit tonight. By the way, did you know that the flakes in the bottle are actual very thin slices of edible gold? Each bottle is supposed to contain roughly a dollar worth of it." Says Lola as she gives me a new bottle and takes the empty one.

"She's not kidding. Here's a little tip from an ex-shot girl: if a client declines your shots and you happen to have the Goldschläger, tell them about the gold flakes. In most cases, they'll buy a shot to try it out and will most likely tip you very well because you will have taught them something new." Gloria adds.

"Thanks for the advice ladies, I really appreciate it!" I reply gratefully.

"We're like a family here, so if you ever need help or if you have questions, don't be shy. I know that Annie can be a pain, but I'm sure she'll come around eventually." Lola says as she shakes a martini.

"You guys are great, thank you. I actually have a question regarding the prize list: what are these _exotic_ prizes?" I ask.

Lola lets out a loud growl and walked away as she mumbled something like _fuck that shit_ while Christa and Gloria look at each other and smirk. Christa grabs my left arm and Gloria grabs my right arm and they lead me out of the lounge to the locker room. Gloria closes the door behind us while Christa takes her purse out of her locker. She takes a small baggie filled with white powder and waves it in my face.

"This is an example of what _exotic 1_ is. It's basically stimulants: you get to pick from various drugs such as speed, ecstasy and cocaine. Prescription only drugs are also available if stuff like adderall is your thing." Christa explains while Gloria pulls out a pill box which she gently shakes in my face.

"This is what you could get with _exotic 2_. It involves depressants such as heroin, opium and xanax. I personally love dilaudid and oxycotone." Gloria says.

This should seem unbelievable, but I'm not surprised one bit since Tony is a freaking drug lord, a weapon trafficker and a pimp too apparently.

"Please don't take it the wrong way but does everyone who works here take drugs? I don't want to judge anyone, I'm just curious." I ask.

"Lola is the only one who's clean, but she used to be a heavy user when I first met her. She overdosed on heroin and almost died. She checked herself into rehab and never touched anything stronger than Tylenol or Advil ever since. Everyone else uses, including Mike and the folks that work upstairs." Says Christa as she and Gloria put their drugs away.

"What's your poison, Ivy?" Gloria asks. When she realized she had made a shitty pun by mistake, she starts giggling. "No pun intended" she finally adds.

I tell the two girls about how I never touched drugs in my life until yesterday and that I kind of like the feel of speed, but hate the come down. I confess to them that I took adderall prior to my shift and that so far, it's doing the trick as far as keeping me awake. We eventually get back to the lounge where Tony signals us to get in our respective teams because the improvisation contest is about to start.

* * *

It feels really nice to take a shower. Granted, it's a little weird to sleep over at Eric's house but I'm looking forward to fall asleep in his arms. I popped half a xanax before hoping in the shower and I'm starting to get drowsy. I realized that I can't keep getting two to three hours of sleep every night I work and that I won't have a choice to take speed or adderall to get me through those days and subsequently pop xanax to get whatever little sleep I can. It's a vicious cycle: if I want to be awake and alert at school, I have to pop a stimulant otherwise my grades will start dropping and my parents will know about it and start being suspicious.

Eric came back circa half an hour before closing time and he wasn't expecting the girls to swarm him with hugs and kind words of congratulations. He assumed I was the one who told everyone, so he gave me grief and attitude until he found out that it was Paolucci who spilled the beans, therefore making it his own fault. Eric had spoken to Tony over the phone in order to arrange the deliveries he had to do that night and he told him about the engagement himself while I was at Stan's house. Eric was shocked when he found out that my team lost the competition. I was bound to lose one of these competitions eventually. My team got crushed by the red team and in all fairness, they deserved the victory. Granted, we got some pretty shitty themes such as _the evil step mother_ and _rapping granny,_ but I should give credit where credit is due: ultimately, they did a much better job than us _._ Had my team won, I would have taken speed as a reward for sure: adderall may be weaker, but it doesn't give me the sensitivity that speed does. Everything is better while on speed: the flavours, the colours, the smells... I hope Eric will hook me up with some of it. In between skits, I sold a butt load of shots: four bottles of Goldschläger and two bottles of Irish cream in total and Gloria was absolutely right: telling people about the gold flakes makes them curious. There are even a few clients that waved me down and bought me a shot after trying it. I personally don't like cinnamon, so I drinking that shit was terrible for my taste buds, but fucking amazing for my wallet. I made almost two thousand bucks in tips tonight and I'm starting to realize how my new wardrobe could have an impact on how much money I make. My mom's clothes were OK, but a little too dated and everyone at Vatican is extremely well dressed, staff and patrons alike. Once again, Eric was right: I can make a butt load of cash using my charm.

As the night went by, I noticed that I barely saw Annie serving shots around to patrons. The other shot girls, me included, were rushing from table to table whereas Annie spent the vast majority of the night with that blond guy. As I was busily making my way from table to table, I got a clear view of the guy: he has short blond hair, blue eyes and a broad jaw line. He's also very muscular, more muscular than Eric for sure. I noticed that he had tattoos showing from under his red plaid shirt on his hands and neck. Compared to the other patrons, he was dressed like a bum and seemed to be out of place. Annie clearly doesn't want me to go close to him; I walked by their table a few times and she just glared at me and showed me her teeth like she was some sort of wild animal. I can't wait until she realizes that I don't care for that guy and that I sure as hell won't try to steal him or anything.

My brain feels all sluggish as I lie next to my fiancé and he embraces me. We both have to get up in a few hours and go to school and I hope to God this week will be a little more quiet and normal than the last.

* * *

That's it for now folks! I hope you liked it.

Please stay tuned for the next chapter. We will meet Scott's new partner and shit is gonna get real!

Love you all! Don't forget to review.

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


	13. Yellow Ribbon

This update was long overdue. Sorry for the wait everyone: buying a house is very time consuming. We finally get to meet Scott's new partner.

So please sit back and enjoy. Don't forget to review

* * *

My name is Trent Boyett and I'm sixteen years old, even though I feel like I'm much older than that. I come from a quaint mountain town called South Park but I spent the past eleven years in juvenile hall for crimes I didn't even commit; I was trialed for aggravated assault on my old preschool teacher, Mrs Claridge, and found guilty when I was five years old. Granted, I had lit the fire that burned and disfigured Mrs Claridge, but the guys who were supposed to put it out didn't keep their end of the deal and blamed the whole thing on me. Another kid had witnessed the whole thing and dared to lie through his teeth by saying that I was solely to blame. I had gotten out a few years later and very much tried to get revenge on the guys who ruined my life but these ass holes managed to burn Mrs Claridge a second time and guess who sent back to juvie? Yeah, that's right: I was sent back behind bars for a second time, only this time the charge was attempted murder. The only consolation I have is that I at least got to fuck up that little shit head Butters; the guy who witnessed the whole thing and still blamed it on me.

While I was behind bars, I had a bunch of pen pals from around the country and most of them were girls. I never understood their fascination with me: some of them believed me when I stated that I was innocent, but most of them only wrote to me because they thought I was a crazy psychopath who hated my preschool teacher and that's not the case at all: I liked Mrs Claridge! My favorite pen pal, the one I truly adore to this day, believes me and claims she knows I'm innocent. Her name is Lizzie and she's as beautiful as a sun rise and as sweet as honey. She has long, silky red hair and eyes as blue as the sky. She came to the detention center to visit me a couple of times and I'm completely crazy for her, but I highly doubt she feels the same towards me and even if she does, her parents will never allow her to date a felon. The only way I'd even have a chance with her is by proving my innocence in the court of law, but that will be challenging. A few years ago, Lizzie informed me in one of her letters that Mrs Claridge had died and thus my dream of proving my innocence died along with her.

Unless the true culprits confess, I will be branded a criminal for the rest of my life and I will be shunned and treated like a piece of garbage by society. In that sense, I will never truly be free and if I'm going to be treated like a fucking animal, I may as well become one. I've been dreaming of getting a real revenge on the guys that put me into that situation for over a decade and by the time I'm done with Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Eric Cartman and that lying little bitch named Butters, I'll be going to jail for a long time, but at least my mind will be at peace. But of course, the only person in the world that could change my mind is a beautiful rose named Lizzie, but even she agrees with me and thinks I deserve retribution.

When I found out that I'd be released from Alamosa, I immediately wrote to Lizzie to tell her the good news. My cell-mate who goes by the name Romper Stomper said to ask her to tie a yellow ribbon around one of the trees near the bus stop, like in that old Tony Orlando song. I know the song was about a prisoner of war and not a convict, but I thought the idea was cute and I asked Lizzie to do it. Ten days ago, I bid Romper Stomper goodbye and was lead to administration where I was handed my stuff back and I was given a bus ticket to South Park and my gate money which consisted of a meager fifty dollars. When I stepped outside Alamosa, I took my first deep breath as a free man and made my way to the bus station. As the bus got closer to South Park, I reflected upon everything I missed out on all these years: the Christmases, the simple joys of playing outside in the sun, my first kiss, growing up... my childhood was robbed from me and I will never get it back, and that pisses the living hell out of me. My revenge will be swift and brutal and should I end up in jail again, this time I'll know that the wrongs that were done to me will be righted.

When I got off the bus, I looked up and saw that every single tree had yellow ribbons in them and Lizzie was there with another girl, her cousin Annabelle, both of them had yellow ribbons adorning their hair and the two of them cheered when they saw me getting out of the bus. I had requested the yellow ribbons as a joke and it was so pleasant to see that they went through with it. No one had ever done anything that nice for me and it brought me a lot of joy to see that Lizzie cared that much for me. I ran towards her, picked her up in my arms and spun her around as she giggled like a school girl. My sweet, sweet Lizzie, I love you so much and you'll never about it. She has called me every single day since I came back to town to make small talk and see how I was adjusting to my new life: it's kind of tough to adapt to the outside world when you've spent most of your life behind bars.

I decided to keep a low profile so that the five shit stains who ruined my life wouldn't know I was back. If I'm planning to get revenge, I can't go around town looking for them and raise suspicions like last time: patience is the one thing that incarceration teaches you and I'm planning to take my time so that when I'll finally strike, the five douche bags will never have seen it coming. I was also staying away from Park County High School to avoid running into them and try to come up with a plan to acquire as much information as possible on them. I thought of wearing a disguise, maybe even dye my hair or shave it all off: anything to be unrecognisable. I know now that it most likely won't be necessary. Lizzie called me yesterday morning as usual, but this time there was no small talk. She asked me how I was planning to get revenge and I admitted to her that I had no clue yet. She told me about some guy who wants to fuck Eric Cartman up at all cost and that I should team up him. She passed the phone to her brother and he said he would take care of arranging a meeting with the guy. I gladly accepted, but there would be a condition: this guy would also help me get the four other ass holes.

* * *

Here I am at Starshmucks waiting for this guy to arrive. Lizzie sent me a picture of him so I could recognize him. All I know is that his name is Scott Tenorman and that he led the Ginger Separatist Movement for a short period of time some years ago. As I sit there, glancing out the window, with my steaming hot coffee in front of me, I can't help but notice how different the town is. I was expecting some changes, but the whole town looks a lot nicer and more modern than it used too: I had assumed that shitty little mountain towns never change, and boy was I wrong! The new districts, the gentrified areas, the bistros and all the rest make the town unrecognisable.

I quickly snap out of my daydream when I hear the front door open and see Scott walking in. Jesus Christ, this guy looks even more terrible than on the picture! Lizzie told me he is in his twenties, but he looks at least fifteen years older than that. He is looking around the place, trying to find me and the second I got up and waved at him, a maniacal smile formed on his face. This guy is creepy beyond belief and I debate whether I should team up with him or not, but it's too late: he saw me and is walking in my direction.

"Scott Tenorman, I assume?" I ask. He nods, that creepy smile still plastered on his face. "My name is Trent Boyett. It's nice to meet you." I add, extending my hand to him. Who the fuck said felons can't have class?

"Trent, the pleasure is mine!" He replies as he shakes my hand. His voice is so creepy that it chills me to the core

"I heard through the grapevine that you have some beef with Eric Cartman, am I right?" I ask him, trying to get down to business.

"One could say that. He caused me a great deal of trauma and stress. He's the reason I look like this. I will stop at nothing until he fucking pays for what he's done to my family and to me." He replies with a look of pure disgust on his face.

"Believe me Scott; I probably hate that fat fuck more than you do. I was denied a proper childhood because of him and his shit stain friends: I was convicted aggravated assault and later on for attempted murder and grew up in juvie. I'm sixteen years old and I spent eleven years of my life behind bars because these little douche bags wouldn't confess the truth. I was blamed for crimes I did not commit and now they must all pay!" I reply, almost spitting out of anger.

Scott looks at me and nods.

"I don't care about the others, but I will gladly help you get back at them if you help me with Eric Cartman first. Once that piece of shit is out of the picture, you'll have my full help and cooperation for the others you're after." He proposes.

It's not a bad offer, but I wonder what the hell Eric Cartman did to him. The way he talks about him, it almost sounds like he wants him dead. I wouldn't mind putting Eric or any of the others in a wheelchair, but murder sounds a little extreme. What did the fat ass do that was so terrible?

"I told you the injustice that was done to me; I'd like to know what Cartman's done to you."

"It's a long story. Let me get a coffee first." He replies, getting up from his chair.

Some brief moments later, Scott is back with his coffee. I learn about the Chili Con Carnival and how Eric Cartman got Scott's parents murdered and then fed them to him. He tells me about finding out that they're half brothers and all the years he was locked up in an asylum. What Scott has endured because of Cartman is absolutely horrible. I understand him now; I'd want that little shit stain dead too if I were in his shoes. Who the fuck kills their own father and feeds him to his half brother?

"Scott, you and I have a deal. I agree that Cartman should be taken down first." I finally declare, extending my hand to him once again.

"Excellent! Welcome on board. I have a feeling you and I will get along very well." He says shaking my hand.

"So, what's the plan?"

"For now, I need you as an observer. Cartman regularly goes to a NoDoNoPa lounge called Vatican; the place is renowned in all of Colorado for its pretty shot girls. He is madly in love with a shot girl named Ivy: that girl is the key to crushing him. See, Cartman is very obsessive and possessive; should something happen to the girl, he'll go mad and we'll get to watch him crumble and kill himself." He explains.

"So, we kill her?"

"Maybe; that'll depend on many things. Right now, the plan is for you to go to Vatican every night as an observer. There's a girl that works there, Annie: she's with us and you two will relay information to each other. The goal is to gather the most information about our love birds, even things that seem stupid or insignificant: their habits, their patterns, what they like to drink; anything at all to help us strategize a plan." He adds.

"I heard about Vatican... I don't think I can afford going there too often though." I admit.

"I will cover all your expenses, it goes without saying." He replies, pulling his wallet out and handing me several hundred dollar bills.

"Thank you. When do I have to start going there?" I say, taking the bills.

"As of tonight; you'll meet Annie and you guys can get acquainted. Oh! Silly me! I almost forgot. You will need this: there's a picture of Annie saved on it as well as the phone numbers of everyone on this operation." He says, pulling a smart phone out of his pocket and handing it to me.

I fiddle around with the device and eventually figure out how it works. I go to the pictures to see what this Annie girl looks like and I can't believe my eyes when I see her.

"Annabelle! It's Annabelle Foley! I know her: she was with Lizzie waiting for me at the bus stop when I came back home." I say.

* * *

I don't think I'll ever get used to Vatican. It's very pretty inside with the curtains and the gorgeous furniture, but I feel out of place. It's the third night I come and I've found out a couple of things about our two lovebirds: they're engaged and Eric Cartman seems to have money coming out of his ass. I keep seeing him ogling at the redhead girl and I can't get over how much he changed since my first release from juvenile hall. I don't think I would have been able to recognize him if Annie didn't point him out. Speaking of Annie, she's livid at the fact that the two lovebirds are engaged. The first night I came here, the two of us spent a fair amount of time talking and getting to know each other. I told her how I was unfairly incarcerated and that Eric Cartman was one of the real culprits and she told me all about her dream of becoming a doctor. When I asked her why she agreed to bring down Cartman, she informed me that she wanted no harm to come to him, but it is Ivy she is actually after.

Watching from a distance, I understand better why Scott wants the girl to be the target: Cartman is always keeping an eye on her every move like he's her bodyguard. It'll be extremely difficult for us to corner her. Scott wanted to abduct her, but I doubt it'll even be an option if Cartman hovers over her like a hawk at all times. Let's face it: Annie is the only one that can get close to her without raising suspicions. I convinced her to be nice to Ivy so she could get as much information from her as possible. She was very resistant at first, but finally understood that it is necessary if we want this whole thing to work.

I always sit at the same small table: it's in the corner, close to the bar and from here I get a good view of the whole room. Cartman is sitting at the other end of the room with his fiancé, having some shots with her. It's kind of fun to watch him freak out whenever a patron buys his girl a shot; Scott was absolutely correct when he stated that Cartman is very possessive of this girl and I'm almost tempted to buy her a shot next time she passes by my table just to piss him off.

"Trent, would you like some vodka or would you prefer some whiskey tonight?" Annie says startling me.

I was so focused on the two love birds that I didn't even notice Annie standing there. Although she's very pretty, her looks pale in comparison Lizzie's. She extremely friendly towards me and has even admitted that she finds me cute, but Jesus Christ is she ever clingy. She makes no effort to hide the fact that she likes me, quite the contrary: she asked me out yesterday. I said I'd think about it; although I'm crazy about Lizzie, I've never been with a girl yet and I'm a sixteen year old teenager with raging hormones. Although I know it's unfair to Annie, I've been playing along tonight and started flirting back.

"Give me some vodka sweetie." I slyly reply.

She blushes a bit as she pours our shots. I feel bad manipulating her like this, but I figure that if she feels desired by me, she'll be in a good mood and by being content; it'll be easier for her to befriend Ivy.

"Annie" I say resting my hand on hers "I see you are making huge efforts being nice to Ivy, but I'm going to need you to push it one step further." I continue.

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"I want you to become her new best friend." I demand.

"Trent, I fucking hate that bitch. It's hard enough to smile and be nice to her, how do you expect me to pull that one off?" She replies, her voice marked by annoyance.

"You'll figure something out, I'm sure"

"But Trent, she knows I hate her and it seems reciprocal." She argues.

"She knows you have a thing for her man. Let's make her think you forgot all about him." I say.

I know what I have to do. I don't like it, but it's for the greater good. Annie gives me a skeptical look as I get up from my seat and take a step to be next to her. I take her hands in mine and gently pull her up towards me. She takes the hint and stands up, her cheeks blushing once more. As I lean in, I close my eyes and think of Lizzie: how beautiful she is and how much I wish she was the girl standing in front of me. My trembling lips meet Annie's and before I know it, our tongues are intertwining. I've never kissed anyone before, and it actually feels really nice. I wrap my arms around Annie and bring her body close to mine; that makes her moan gently. As our lips part, I open my eyes and notice how flushed Annie's face has become. Furthermore, the blond shot girl and the brown haired waitress are clapping and cheering at us. I look over at Cartman's table and surely enough, Ivy saw everything and is smiling from ear to ear.

"Trent... that was amazing!" Annie exclaims.

"you and Ivy have no more reasons to hate each other: you have a boyfriend now. Do what I asked you to do and become her best friend. Try to hang out with her outside of work, if possible. Get me all the information you can." I bluntly say.

Annie smiles at me and quickly plants a kiss on my cheek before picking up our empty glasses and taking them back to the bar. All the other girls, including Ivy, run towards the bar to congratulate her. Annie looks radiant as she accepts the hugs and words of felicitations. She even allowed Ivy to hug her, which is great. Now, the only thing I can do is to wait for their friendship to flourish. Although Scott will be pleased by these new developments, I feel bad for manipulating Annie like this: it's unfair to her because no matter what, my heart will always belong to sweet Lizzie.

* * *

Some of you guessed right, but it was pretty obvious!

I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for Kyle's get together.


	14. Ribs

Hi everyone!

I had a lot of fun writing this chapter and I hope you'll have just as much fun reading it.

Sit back and enjoy! Don't forget to review.

* * *

I invited Kenny and Butters to my get together this upcoming Saturday; Kenny accepted on the spot, but poor Butters can't make it because he's grounded again since he allegedly looked at his dad funny again. I feel bad for Butters and I can't help but feel empathetic towards him since I can relate to him so well: my father is also a monumental douche bag. The guys and I are sitting at our usual table enjoying some lunch and Stan and Kenny are very excited about the sleep over. Kenny is planning to bring weed and he will apparently have a surprise for all of us and no matter how much we pester him to know what it is, he doesn't want to say anything about it, not even a tiny little hint.

"It won't be a surprise if I tell you what it is you bunch of dumb asses" He keeps chanting whenever he's asked for details.

Stan said he will bring some booze and _cards against humanity_ so we can make a drinking game out of the card game.

"It's like _card-ception_ you guys. It'll be awesome!" He keeps saying.

"Your jokes are lame Stan!" Eric can't help but say and I agree wholeheartedly.

Eric said that he wants to be in charge of cooking and he said he already came up with a menu. I've not been eating kosher ever since I had bacon in Denver last weekend, so Eric said that he wants to make his dream come true.

"I'm going to make us some slow cooked baby back ribs, you guys! It's going to be fucking delicious, you'll see." Eric exclaims.

"Dude! You can't make pork at Kyle's house; it's not kosher." Stan says to Eric.

"Stan, I'll have you know that cooking pork in a kosher house has always been my ultimate goal in life. I was thinking of making some sea food appetizers; what would you guys prefer? Garlic shrimp or fried calamari?" Eric continues, a huge smirk forming on his face as he turns to me.

Stan and Kenny also look in my direction, most likely expecting me to lash out at Eric for his rudeness, but are instead taken by surprise when I start laughing my ass off. The looks on their faces are completely priceless and even Eric looks a little bit perplexed by my reaction.

"Since you're such a fat ass, why don't you make both the shrimp and the calamari?" I finally say in between giggles.

"Hai! I'm not fat, you fake ass Jew!" Cartman barks back, but starts giggling at the end of his sentence.

"Kyle, you're not seriously letting him do that, right? Dude! Your mom will fucking murder you if she finds out." Stan asks me, looking more and more bemused.

"Yeah, well my mom is in another state and I just finished eating a ham sandwich, what's your point?" I reply, trying not to start laughing.

Stan and Kenny look at each other, utterly speechless for a few instants. Eric and I also look at each other, and all though no words are uttered between us, it's almost as though we are reading each other's thoughts. His hazel eyes are shining and sparkling intensively and I am completely captivated by them. I'm looking forward to the end of the day to go home and make sweet love to him. Our moment is interrupted when Wendy and Bebe decided to join us at our table. Unsurprisingly, Kenny is blatantly staring at Bebe's voluptuous chest and he's not even discreet about it. Bebe notices Kenny's fascination with her bosoms, and gives him a little wink. Stan is more than happy when Wendy leans down for a kiss and hug, but I can't help but feel a little queasy; ever since Stan told me about the squirting, I feel very awkward whenever I'm around her.

"Hey sweetie, I won't disturb you and your friends too much but Red just invited us to a party this upcoming Saturday and I was wondering if you and your friends wanted to come with us?" She asks him, all bright eyed and bushy tailed.

"I'm sorry babe, but Kyle is having a little get together that day and we'll spend the afternoon and evening playing board games and basically just chilling together." Stan replies, looking almost disappointed to deny Wendy his company at Red's party.

"Well, it's alright I guess. Let me know if you guys change your minds." She says before taking her leave with Bebe.

It's pretty clear that Stan is disappointed that he won't be spending time with his girlfriend this Saturday and Kenny is sad to see his favorite busty girl leave our vicinity. Kenny is just murmuring to himself something along the lines of ' _oh my god, her tits are awesome'._ All of a sudden, Kenny's face lights up and he turns to me. He grabs me by the shoulders and starts gently shaking me.

"I know! How about you have the girls over before they go to Red's party? I'm sure Bebe will wear something super skimpy! Come on, please? I've been trying to hook up with her for a while now. Please help out a brother?" Kenny implores.

Stan's face also lights up and he nods, agreeing with Kenny's idea. Kenny finally stops shaking me while I'm considering the idea. Cartman on the other hand, he doesn't seem too thrilled by the whole plan.

"So while Stan fucks Wendy and Kenny fucks Bebe, what the hell are Khal and I supposed to do? Jerk each other off?" He sarcastically asks.

Stan and Kenny burst into laughter and I just feel my cheeks burning. Eric and I have been intimate every day since our little escapade in Denver, so I know he actually means what he says. The worst part is that Cartman seems amused by my embarrassment: I can see his lips slowly forming a grin and his hazel eyes narrowing in on mine, giving off their famous sparks.

"Dude, why is your face all red?" Stan asks me, still laughing.

"He's probably looking forward to jerking Cartman's dick." Kenny instantly rebukes.

"Shut the fuck up Kenny _"_ is what Cartman and I reply in unison, which makes Kenny and Stan laugh even more and my cheeks burn up a little more. When the laughter finally subsides, Kenny turns to Cartman and I and I don't think he's done with this gag yet.

"You guys have probably done it a million times already; you're not fooling me." Kenny concludes with a smirk on his face.

"Alright Kenny, it's enough. Just leave them alone already." Stan tells him prior to turning his attention to me "Can I tell Wendy and Bebe to come hang out with us before they go to Red's party?" Stan asks me.

"Sure, they can come. How else will I find an opportunity to jerk Cartman off?" I reply nonchalantly, looking up at the ceiling as my friends and secret fiancé burst into laughter once more.

* * *

Nothing beats waking up to the delectable aroma of Eric's cooking. He's been slow cooking the baby back ribs since last night and the smell of them has been defused all across my house. My hefty fiancé is by my side, still asleep with his arms wrapped around my person. I could nudge him and free myself to get up, but I'd rather stay and enjoy this moment a little while longer. We've been living together for the past week and in between school and work, we don't have much time to snuggle in bed like this. I haven't felt this content in years and it seems like everything is going my way for once: I'm making good money from the whole shot girl gig and speaking of Vatican, the atmosphere is much better now that Annie hooked up with the blond guy. A few nights ago, the guy made his move and finally kissed her. Everyone at work, me included, is happy for her and she even let me hug her. She's been very nice to me this week and even Eric is finding her less annoying. The only thing that's been bugging me is that Annie's boyfriend looks oddly familiar, but I can't seem to remember where I've seen him before. Eric is under the same impression as me, but he thinks we've just seen him around since we live in such a small town. Annie hasn't introduced him to me or the other sisters of Vatican, so we don't even know his name: I guess she's so insecure that she fears one us might steal him.

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Eric emitting a gentle grunt as he shifts his position, giving his back to me. Wanting more snuggles, I do the same and it's my turn to spoon him and to plant small kisses on the nape of his neck, forgetting a cardinal rule: never let Cartman aim his ass in your direction. My fiancé farts on my bare crotch, loud and strong, like a French horn connected to a thousand watt amplifier. It was powerful enough to momentarily lift my flaccid penis and warm enough to give me the impression that I peed myself. Cartman immediately bursts into laughter, turns around and pulls the blankets on top of my head, forcing me to smell his flatulence as I yell, helpless under his crushing weight. The scent of his gas reminds me of a rotten egg stuffed inside a dead, decomposing rodent that has been left in the sun for days and that is starting to move on its own due the sheer amount of maggots living inside of it, with a side order of fermented cabbage topped with moldy cheese. That fucking douche bag did it on purpose.

"Cartman! Fuck you so much! You're such an ass hole!" I scream while Eric keeps laughing his ass off.

"What's wrong Jew? You don't like the gas chamber?" He sneers in between chuckles.

"Fuck off Cartman! Let me out! The smell is burning my eyes!" I yell at him, trying not to gag.

"Oh, alright..." He replies, still chuckling and finally releases me from the fetid bed sheets.

The first thing I do is that I run to my window and open it, finally breathing in some air that doesn't feel like fire as it enters my lungs. The second thing I do is to turn around and slap my still giggling fiancé across the face. Violence is never the answer, but when it comes to Cartman it's sometimes inevitable: He knows how to push my buttons.

"Hai! What the fuck Khal! That fucking hurt!" He blurts out.

"That's what you get for putting me in your gas chamber, fat ass!" I reply, frustrated out of my mind prior to making a dash for the bathroom.

Cartman follows me, but I beat him to the washroom and lock him out. He starts pounding on the door, begging me to let him in and screaming that I'm being unreasonable and that I'm over reacting. The putrid smell of his fart still lingers in my nose and I try several things to try to get rid of it. I brush my teeth; no effect. I spray air freshener; no effect. I even spray myself with some old lady cheap perfume, a relic that used to belong to my grandmother Cleo and that my mom never found the heart to throw away; still no effect. The good thing is that Eric took the hint and stopped knocking and screaming though. I open the door to see where he went and surprisingly, he's sitting naked on the floor across the washroom, his back against the wall, patiently waiting for me.

"Did you scrub the sand out of your vagina yet?" He harshly asks me.

"Fuck off Cartman!" I yell at him.

"Khal, it was just a fart, ok? Everyone fucking farts in the world and I don't understand why the fuck you're losing your mind over gas." He states, his voice just as grave as before.

"Why I'm losing my mind? Do you have any idea of how disgusting it smelled? That and your shitty gas chamber joke pissed me off." I screech at him.

"I remember once upon a time you begged me to fart in your mouth because you liked the taste of my yummy, yummy farts." He taunts, raising his brow.

"You insufferable bastard, you forced me to do that! Do you really think I enjoyed it?" I spit back at him.

Cartman slowly gets up, in all his nude glory, and starts to take steps towards me, his hazel eyes narrowing in on mine. I instinctively take a few steps back but before I know it, he grabs me by the waist with his left arm, pulls me into him and raises my chin with his right hand thus forcing me to look at the arrogant smirk on his lips.

"You're not fooling me Khal. I know you loved it." He whispers, his lips mere millimetres away from mine.

Here I am, completely helpless in his arms. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and my pulse accelerating. Butterflies start swarming my stomach, like the night I met Eric as Ivy and I feel another rush of blood, but this one is going straight to my groin, making my cock semi-hard. Why the fuck am I so turned on? Am I a masochist? My head tries to say no, but my dick is screaming yes. Eric picked up on it and flashes me a devious grin; it wasn't too difficult for him to feel my growing manhood against his thigh. He slowly puts his lips to mine and soon enough our tongues start dancing together. Next thing I know, he picks me up and makes his way to my room without me objecting but once we get there, we both sniff out a huge problem, no pun intended: the horrific smell still lingers and it's killing my boner!

"Holy shit! You were right Khal: It smells like death in your room!" Eric says with a slight cackle.

"Thanks a lot Eric! I'm gonna have to burn my bed now!" I reply, a little upset.

"Your parent's room?" He asks with a huge grin on his face.

Before I have time to reply, I am already being thrown on my parent's bed and Eric immediately goes down on his knees and starts sucking off my ever throbbing dick. His tongue draws slimy little circles around my tip and he alternates between gently teasing me with it and taking the whole thing down his throat. I feel the familiar shivers going from my rock hard cock all the way to my brain until I finally can't take it anymore and climax all over my fiancé's face, completely taking him by surprise. Eric looks at me dumbfounded with his eyes wide opened and I can't help but burst into laughter.

"It's called payback, fat ass!" I say, hardly able to contain my satisfaction.

* * *

Upon entering my house, I am immediately welcomed by a draft of mouth-watering fragrance coming from the kitchen. While I spend the past few hours running various errands, Eric spend that time in the kitchen preparing all sorts of tasty snacks, dishes and appetizers for tonight. Other than the ribs that have been slow cooking since last night, he also made puff pastry appetizers stuffed with various different fillings, a four layer dip for chips and veggies, a potato salad, an apple pie and a cheesecake. He still has the famous calamari rings and sautéed garlic shrimp to make, but apparently it's better if you make them at the last second. While Eric was keeping busy making enough food to feed a small army, I went out to buy the latest call of duty as well as a couple of board games: I got us broom service and five tribes, both being resource management games. Stan and Kenny should arrive at any given moment, so I rush to the kitchen to steal a few last smooches from Eric before the guys arrive.

"It smells amazing in the house, but don't you think it's a bit much?" I ask my love as I embrace him from behind.

"There's no such thing as too much food my dear. Besides, queen bitch supreme and fat tits are coming over for dinner too." He replies, turning towards me.

We both lean in for a kiss just as the doorbell rings: Stan and Kenny have arrived at last. Kenny had been going on and on about his surprise all week long, but nothing on this Earth could have prepared me for it: I open the door, but I don't see Stan or Kenny walking in. Instead, a monkey runs into my house and hops on my shoulder, startling me half to death and causing me to stumble back, fall on my ass and scream like a little girl who just saw a black hairy spider. Stan and Kenny finally come in, cracking up like the two fucking morons that they are while Cartman darted from the kitchen as fast as he could to see what the hell happened. Kenny extends his arm and the monkey runs back towards its master and hops on it with ease while Cartman looks as puzzled as I feel.

"I assume you didn't like my epic surprise." Kenny says grinning from ear to ear.

"You call this a surprise? It scared the shit out of me! If that creature fucks anything up in my house, I swear to God I'll fucking kill you Kenny!" I yell, still under the effect of the adrenaline rush.

"That creature is a capuchin monkey and she has a name: Bebe's Boobs. She's very well behaved and don't worry about her pooping or peeing on your mom's precious carpets: as you can see, she wears a diaper." Kenny smugly replies.

"Yeah Kyle, don't worry about Bebe's Boobs. I was skeptical at first, but she's really chill. Kenny taught her how to roll joints." Stan chimes in, gently chuckling.

"You named your monkey Bebe's Boobs? Why in the name of cheese would you name a monkey that?" Cartman inquires.

"Why wouldn't I call her Bebe's Boobs? Bebe's Boobs are fucking sweet, plus check out how sick her rolling skills are." Kenny replies.

Kenny makes his way to my dining room table and opens his knap sack to pull out a small mason jar filled with marijuana as well as a pack of rolling paper. Upon seeing these objects, Bebe's Boobs jumps off of his shoulders and sets herself up right next to the stuff. With her little monkey hands, she unscrews the lid and pulls out a small bud of pot which she meticulously crushes into a little pile with her little fingers. She then takes a rolling paper out of the pack and flawlessly rolls one of the nicest joint I've ever seen in my life and immediately hands it to her master. Eric and I are completely captivated by how fucking awesome that was.

"That was fucking sweet!" Cartman exclaims.

"Impressive indeed!" I exclaim: Bebe's Boobs is pretty cool after all.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go smoke this puppy!" Kenny exclaims as he extends his arm and signals Bebe's Boobs to hop on his shoulder.

We make our way to my backyard and we sit together on the porch. Kenny sparks the joint and deeply inhales its smoke before passing it to Stan. Stan takes his toke and skips me, passing it directly to Cartman, who takes the joint and hands it to me.

"Stan, it's not polite to skip your best friend." Eric sneers, looking at Stan right in the eye.

I waste no time taking the biggest toke I can inhale and although I try not to choke to death, I immediately start coughing violently and tears start rising in my eyes. Stan and Kenny both look at me, dumbfounded while Eric smirks.

"What the fuck Kyle? You've always turned down weed." Stan exclaims once my coughing finally subsides.

"I wanted to experiment." I quickly reply in between coughs.

"Dude, you never want to experiment. Something's fishy here: first you allow Cartman to cook fucking pork and sea food in your house, and then you try drugs? What the fuck is going on with you?" Stan asks me with concern palpable in his voice.

"You know what Stan? You want to know why ever since my parents left I've been doing shit I would have never dreamt of doing if they were around? Well it's very simple: I am sick and tired of being told what to do by everyone and to behave the way they expect me to behave. I learned something in the past few weeks Stan: I've been miserable my whole life because I've been living it for other people rather than for myself. I've never felt happier and freer than now." I reply with a slightly irritated tone which somewhat shocks my super best friend.

"Dude, our little Kyle is growing up." Kenny eventually adds as he nudges Stan with his elbow.

"Well, I suppose you're right." Stan finally admits.

* * *

I don't know if it's the weed or the booze talking, but I'm actually glad that Wendy and Bebe came here tonight. I wasn't sure at first since freaking out is the first thing that Wendy did upon seeing Bebe's Boobs. She started ranting about how inhumane it was to own an exotic pet since most of them are captured in the wild and ripped away from their social circle. Noticing that Stan, and the rest of us for that matter, were high was the second. I expected her to lash out at Stan for being irresponsible, but surprisingly, the third thing she did is ask us why we didn't wait for Bebe and her prior to lighting that joint. None of us were expecting that from Wendy: Bebe definitely, but not Wendy.

"I guess you're not as lame as you used to be." Eric said, rather impressed.

Kenny was more than happy to show off Bebe's Boobs rolling skills once more. The ladies both giggled and were in awe as they watched Kenny's monkey do her work. Wendy seemed to have forgotten all about her speech on ethics and the humane treatment of animals. Stan was a little perplexed that his girlfriend was so eager to smoke drugs, so Wendy admitted that she started smoking pot occasionally last year when she was under a lot of pressure both academically and at home. She confessed that her father had cheated on her mother and that her politically correct, liberal household had temporarily became akin a warzone. She was also under a lot of pressure from the debate club at school and felt as though she was struggling academically. It was Bebe who pressured her to consume some marijuana so she could mellow out, and it worked! Wendy also added that she was pissed off when she realized that she had been lied to her entire life and that there's no such thing as a gateway drug. It was really funny seeing Cartman and Wendy agree on something for once. I thought Bebe was going to flip her shit upon hearing Kenny's monkey's name, but she just laughed it off saying that she takes it as a compliment coming from Kenny.

Eric's cooking was a major hit: everyone agreed that all the food he prepared was delicious. Bebe even told him that he should open his own restaurant after graduation, but Eric quickly told her that he finds cooking relaxing and that's it's more of a hobby for him. He fears that if he starts doing it professionally, he'll start dreading it and it's not something he wants to risk.

The only thing that's better than playing cards against humanity is playing cards against humanity stoned out of your mind and turning it into a drinking game. Stan had the brilliant idea that you have to drink every time your white card isn't chosen. So far, Kenny is the most sober person in this room and Wendy is getting drunker by the second.

"What will always get you laid?" Bebe asks, holding the black card.

We all hand her a white card for possible answers.

"Possible answers: My hand; Preteens; A glory hole; Happy Hour; Date Rape. Holy shit, this is terrible... The winner is date rape." She continues, nervously giggling while Wendy glares at her and mumbles something about male privilege.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm fucking ripping you guys apart at this game" Kenny shouts out, throwing his arms in the air prior to collecting his seventh black card.

Eric collects the next black card since it's his turn.

"What gives me uncontrollable gas? Jesus Christ! Stan, your fucking card game is aware of my legendary farts!" Cartman says, appearing a little tipsy.

I got the perfect card for that and Eric will love it! Screw you Kenny! This black card is mine.

"All right! Possible answers: Yeast; Free Samples; Tentacle Porn... Oh my God! Pfahaha" Cartman says bursting into laughter

"What's so funny Cartman?" Stan slurs.

"Auschwitz! Holy fuck Kenny, you got me good! I don't need to see the last card, this one is perfect." Cartman says, handing him the black card.

"I didn't play that!" Kenny immediately exclaims.

"Yeah, that was me." I say as I giggle.

All eyes but Cartman's are on me, but I was expecting that. They're all expecting me to blow a fuse at Eric for being anti-Semitic again, but the joke is truly on them. Eric is laughing so hard that he's about to fall off his chair, exactly as I expected.

"Did Kyle just make a holocaust joke at Cartman or am I so out of it that I imagined it? Wendy asks, rather baffled.

"Come on Wendy, it's cards against humanity we're playing. Oh and Eric, please give me my black card." I nonchalantly say.

"You sneaky, sneaky Jew..."Cartman says, a devious smirk on his face as he hands me the card.

"Damn right I am!" I reply as I extend my hand to collect my precious black card, grinning right back at him.

"You totally knew I'd pick that! Well played my friend" He adds.

As I take it, Eric's hand brushes mine, causing me to blush. I stare in his immense hazel eyes for a moment and feel the butterflies rise in my guts. _Please God, don't give me an awkward boner, not now_. While I place my card with the ones I previously won, I notice everyone else at the table is looking at my secret fiancé and me in a perplexed manner, except for Kenny who just bursts into laughter and it's really not helping the blushing on my face: my face feels like it's on fucking fire. Stan is about to say something when we all hear a loud noise coming from upstairs, like a door that got slammed. Kenny immediately stops laughing.

"What the fuck was that?" Eric asks as he swiftly gets up.

"Where's Bebe's Boobs? Guys, have you seen her? She was here like five minutes ago." Kenny asks, freaking out and looking in every corner of the room.

"She probably slammed a door upstairs you guys." Wendy says.

We all quickly go upstairs and start searching for her. We split up into groups of two: Eric and I search my room while Wendy and Stan inspect my parent's room and Bebe and Kenny take care of looking in Ike's room. No luck. We check the linen closet and the bathroom, and once again she's nowhere to be found. Kenny is starting to believe that she opened the window and escaped outside, but that's unlikely since the windows are very heavy and difficult for even Ike to open on his own. We suddenly hear another crashing sound coming from above and now it's very clear where she went.

"The attic!" We all exclaim in unison.

I open the hatch and make my way up to the attic alone even though that place always gave me the creeps. It's dark, dusty and I stumble around for a few moments prior to finding and turning on the light. The light bulb almost immediately burns out, emitting a bright blue light as well as the usual sound of a tungsten wire snapping. I am startled beyond belief, and I'm not the only one who almost shat their pants: Bebe's Boobs screeches and jumps on me, not only further scaring me but also making me stumble back and ultimately fall out of the attic's hatch. Not exactly the best experience to have when you're high and tipsy. Thankfully, Bebe's Boobs jumps off of me during my fall and lands safe and sound right on Kenny's shoulder whereas Eric is quick enough to catch me, bridal style of course, my face ending up being mere inches away from his since I instinctively wrap my arms around his shoulders. The concern is beyond visible in his beautiful hazel eyes and I can feel his heart racing in his chest. Surely enough, I feel the fire rising in my cheeks, my pulse is accelerating and the butterflies are having a party in my stomach once again. His lips look delicious and their only a few inches away from mine: I can almost taste them. _Don't fuck it up, Kyle! Be strong. Don't blow your cover._ Unsurprisingly,Kenny starts cracking up. Still in Eric's arms, I turn to face the others: Stan looks kind of confused, but he always looks like that when he drinks. Wendy is looking everywhere except my direction and Bebe, well she's just sort of standing there, pointing at my crotch. Yes, I have a semi-hard on. Best timing ever, right?

"Hey Stan, it looks like Kyle and Cartman are ready to jerk each other off." Kenny says, still laughing.

"I was totally just going to say that." Stan replies in a stoic fashion.

"What's going on?" Bebe asks. "Did I miss something?" She continues, raising her eyebrow.

Fuck. My. Life.

"What Bebe? Kenny and Stan didn't tell you about their plan? Stan is going to bone Wendy and Kenny is going to try to bone you, leaving Kyle and I with nothing better to do than to jerk each other off." Eric nonchalantly replies as he puts me back down on solid ground.

Eric made an excellent save! Bebe turns to Kenny, glaring at him like she wants to kill him. Wendy does the same thing with Stan. Leave it to Cartman to defuse any situation.

"Kenny McCormick, what the fuck? You and I aren't even dating you sick pig! First you name your monkey after my breasts and then you have me invited to what I assumed was a night amongst friends, and all of that just to try to stick your dick in me without previous commitment? Go fuck yourself you fucking ass hole!" Bebe yells mere inches from Kenny's face.

Bebe screams so loud that Bebe's Boobs, probably scared out of her mind, jumps off of Kenny's shoulder and starts to pick up small objects such as my mother's knick-knacks and throws them at Bebe in self defense. Wendy desperately tries to calm her friend down, but Bebe's too far gone in her rage to listen to anyone. Poor Stan is still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened and I can't help but find the whole ordeal rather comical. Eric has his trademark smug, self-satisfied grin plastered on his face: I used to hate it, but now I must say it has grown on me.

* * *

"Why the fuck did you have to say that? You just blew my chances with her! Even Bebe's Boobs was scared out of her mind." Kenny says, completely exasperated.

"Seriously dude, Wendy looked as though she was going to kill me." Stan quickly adds.

"Well, you shouldn't have said that Kyle and I were going to jerk each other off. Plus, it's not nice to make fun of someone's awkward boner." Cartman brashly replies.

"You guys did look like you were going to kiss. What's up with the two of you? You've both been acting weird lately." Stan interjects.

"You guys feel like watching a movie and call it a night?" I ask, trying to tone down the atmosphere.

The girls left shortly after Bebe's bout of rage. Wendy was able to convince her to just take their leave and head to Red's party and the moment they were out, it took Kenny a few minutes to pacify Bebe's Boobs. I feel really bad for the poor monkey: first the light blows up in the attic, and then Bebe unleashing the fury must have messed her up. Kenny and Stan are pissed at Cartman for instigating the whole thing for obvious reasons, but I'm kind of proud of him. I'm glad everyone agrees to the movie idea so we can all just relax, after smoking another one of Bebe's Boob's joints, of course. Today was a weird day, but all things considered, today was a great day: despite all the drama, we had a lot of fun together. I missed doing that, I missed just chilling with my friends and screwing around. It sucks that I only have a year and a half left with them. It sucks that my parents make me miserable. Now that the lights are turned off and that a Live Free or Die Hard is playing, we're all slouching on the couch in our PJs and Bebe's Boobs is curled up on her master's lap, I feel terrible. I look at Stan, my super best friend and I know I'll miss him terribly. I wish I could tell him everything, but I know damn well he won't get it and I know he'll try to stop me and stage an intervention with my parents and that would only trap me further. I look at Kenny and I know I'll dearly miss all his shenanigans and his heart of gold. I will organize another get together like this very soon so that when I will leave, I'll have amazing memories to bring with me, wherever Eric and I will go. Growing up truly sucks ass.

* * *

What did you guys think about Cartman's fart? Writing it made me laugh to tears...

Also, do you guys like Bebe's Boobs?

Don't forget to review.

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	15. Closer

Hi Everyone!

This is another chapter that will have trigger warnings for rape. They will be indicated so that you may skip the section all together.

Please enjoy and don't forget to review

* * *

Some people are fully disposable: you keep them around when they're useful and once they stop being an asset, you toss them like the trash that they are. Trent Boyett is not one of them and I seriously need to give Foley a medal for finding me such a precious accomplice. Trent is a great guy and I'm very pleased that he's on board with me: he listens, he's ruthless, he doesn't let his emotions control him and he will stop at nothing until his goal is reached, just like me. To make sure that my fat ass half brother can't recognize him, I personally took him shopping for clothes that are a little more suitable to hang out in a place like Vatican and made him get a haircut that is a little more fashionable. He was reluctant at first, but I quickly made him understand that the whole _ex-convict_ look he had going on might have given away his identity and that would royally fuck up our plan. It's funny how little it takes to convince him: it must be his lack of education and the fact that he had to follow orders for the vast majority of his life.

"So you're dating Annie now? You guys do make a cute couple." I congratulate him.

Going to Vatican on Saturday nights is a monumental waste of time and energy since Cartman's Bitch has the night off, so I invited Trent over to hang out and brainstorm ideas for our sweet revenge. After a nice copious meal, the two of us moved to the living room and we started chatting: Trent gave Annie the mandate to become Ivy's close friend and gain her trust. He explained that in order to lower Ivy's guard, they had to make her believe that Annie is no longer interested in Cartman. To do so, Trent kissed Annie in front of everyone at Vatican and as far as everyone, including Annie, is concerned the two of them are a couple.

"I wish I didn't have to: Every time I kiss her, I close my eyes and think of Lizzie. Annie is a nice girl and I hate manipulating her. When this is all over, I'll let her down easy. She must never know I'm not into her at all." He calmly admits.

"Who cares about her? She's a cock hungry whore anyway. You don't need to feel bad." I dryly say.

Trent looks at me, perplexed. He doesn't know what crazy sexual acts I've paid Annie to perform last week, and I wonder if I should let him know. I think that for the sake of this partnership, it's best that we keep full transparency and in any case, Annie is just an accessory. To ease the conversation we're about to have, I pull out my prized bottle of Laphroaig quarter cask, my favorite scotch, and pour us both a glass.

"Alright Trent, there's something you should know: I paid Annie good money for sex last week. I had no idea you guys were going to date, and regardless if you love her or not, I'd like her to continue _servicing_ me, if that's OK with you of course." I carefully add, carefully choosing my words and my tone as I hand him his glass.

Trent looks at me with surprise all over his face prior to taking his glass to his lips. He makes a face as he takes his first sip, but doesn't complain about the peaty beverage.

"I'm sorry if I stepped on your toes: I had no idea you were interested in her." He naively replies.

I can't help but laugh upon hearing Trent's words. He may be a tough ex-convict, but he's absolutely clueless and innocent then it comes to the real world.

"Oh boy! If I really was interested in her, you can bet your ass I would have never paid her for sex. She's all yours pal!" I say, still chuckling.

"I don't love her Scott, so if she's OK with sleeping with you for money, I really don't give a crap. Go ahead and indulge yourself." He flatly replies.

"Have you ever had sex?" I can't help but ask as I swirl my scotch.

Trent throws back the rest of his scotch and makes another face prior to slamming his glass on my white oak coffee table. I get up and pour him some more scotch as he looks at me square in the eyes.

"I was locked up for eleven years. When could I have had sex?" He replies, clearly annoyed before taking a sip of his second glass of Laphroaig.

It makes sense: I had money to pay a hooker when I got out, but Trent wasn't rich at all and clearly couldn't afford paying a whore. His parents had disowned him the second time he was sent to juvie and was currently renting a bed in a boarding house.

"I'm surprised you didn't fuck Annie yet: she's easy and she has a tight little ass." I say as I finish my glass of scotch before sitting back down and pouring myself another.

"It wouldn't be right: I told you I don't love her." He admits, lowering his eyes.

"What's love got to do with it? She's your hot girlfriend and you get to fuck the living shit out of her for free. Do yourself a favour: Just go for it!" I reply, swirling my scotch.

"But Lizzie..." He starts, but I interrupt him.

"Face it Trent: Lizzie's an honour roll student from a respectable family and you have no chance with her whatsoever. Even if she did love you, her brothers would kill you and her parents would probably put her in a boarding school to keep her as far away as possible from an ex-con. Are you going to spend your life waiting for a girl you can't have, or are you going to grab life by the balls and start enjoying it? Annie is hot and her pussy is available: take my advice and fuck the living shit out of her." I brashly say.

Trent downs his second glass of scotch, a look of sadness on his face. I didn't mean to be so harsh with him, but it's a reality he will have to face at some point. I know for a fact that Foley would murder him without hesitation if he ever tries anything with his precious little sister Lizzie. Upon seeing the hurt on his face, I do the charitable thing and pass him the Scotch bottle. He immediately pours himself a double and gulps it down right away.

"I know Scott. It's just a really tough pill to swallow. To think that if those five douche bags said the truth, I could be with her." He says, setting down his glass, tears rising in his eyes.

I can tell he's getting inebriated: his cheeks and nose have this slight tint of pinkish-red in them and he's clearly more emotional than usual. Tonight might be the perfect night for him to become a man: Annie is coming after her shift to talk to us about what went on at Vatican yesterday anyway. He sloppily pours himself more scotch: other than Foley, my acolytes seem to love wasting fine scotch and wine in order to get piss drunk. It's a little annoying, but it's OK I guess: how many Laphroaig bottles is sweet revenge worth?

"Go easy with the booze: I don't want you puking all over my house." I sternly warn him.

The doorbell rings. I glance at the clock and see it's already three thirty in the morning: time flies when you're in good company. I tell Trent to go open the door for his girlfriend and he rolls his eyes at me, but complies anyway. He makes his way to the front door, stumbling as he walks. The mirror placed across the vestibule shows him clumsily opening the door and grabbing Annie by the coat, pulling her closer to him and plant a sloppy kiss on her lips before she can even utter a greeting. Annie doesn't seem to mind but then again, she's a huge slut that can only be rivaled by my step brother's mother.

"Annie my dear, how have you been? Congratulation on your new relationship: I see he's quite a catch." I say loudly so that she can hear me down the hall, trying to sound as polite and genuine as I can.

Annie gracefully walks in, her beige stilettos clicking noisily on the floor and sits herself on the couch. She's followed by her drunken boyfriend who's swaying right and left despite his clear efforts to walk in a straight line. Rather than sitting down on the couch, he simply crashed down on it, causing Annie to almost fly off of it.

"I've been just excellent Scott. Thank you for the kind words." She says with a grin on her freckled face.

I point at the Laphroaig bottle and stare at Annie in the eyes, non-verbally asking her if she'd like some. Unsurprisingly, she nods a _yes_ : fuck it! I'll just buy another bottle tomorrow. I pour the peaty liquid into a glass and hand it to Annie, who's getting felt up by Trent. I guess he's going to take my advice.

"Please tell me you got some helpful tips out of our two little love birds" I say, attentively focusing on the ginger girl's face: seeing Trent run his hands all over her thighs and waist is a little distracting.

"Well, there's not much that you guys didn't already know: they got engaged a week ago, the two of them are practically always glued together but last night, as I was sitting at a client's table right next to theirs and I overheard Ivy telling Eric that he's crazy." She says.

"Well, that's disappointing. Do you have any idea why she's calling him crazy?" I ask, although I already know that the fat fuck is a crazy psychopath.

"Something about him getting a Glick 21G, whatever that is." She says nonchalantly, in between sips of scotch.

Trent looked as though he was going to melt between the couch and his girlfriend five seconds ago, but now he sat right back up, his eyes sparkling. He quickly grabs the last glass that he poured himself and quickly downs its contents prior to slamming it on my oak table, once again. He laughs out loud to himself and he's starting to get on my nerves now.

"What the fuck is a Glick 21G? We need to figure it out." I say, trying very hard to keep my composure.

Trent's laughter is growing more and more intense and I'm about to kick him out of my house lest he tells me what he finds so funny: even his sweet girlfriend Annie is looking at him like he's a freak.

"What's so hilarious Boyett?" I finally ask him, a hint of anger tinting my voice.

Trent laughter stopped instantly: I recall him telling me that he hated to be referred to by his last name because that's what the guards called him when he was behind bars. He looks at me dead in the eye prior to revealing what humoured him so.

"I'm pretty sure that what Cartman wants to get is a Glock G21." He says as his lips distort themselves into a forced crooked smile.

"And what is a Glock G21?" Annie asks.

Of course! Why didn't I figure out before? Trent turns to his girlfriend, his crooked smile morphing into a full-fledged grin, showing teeth and all as she stares at him with her blue eyes.

"It's a .45 caliber pistol, sweetie." He replies smugly prior to leaning in on his girlfriend a steal a sloppy kiss from her.

I'm glad for Trent that he took my advice, but watching him feeling up and making out with Annie continuously is starting to aggravate me. I need some time to think alone without stupid distractions.

"You two lovers look like you need some alone time. Trent, how about you take Annie upstairs in the new guestroom? The two of you are more than welcome to spend the night. You can even open a wine bottle and take it upstairs if you want to." I offer, hoping to God that they accept it.

Trent and Annie look at each other with shiny eyes. They decide to sleep over and Annie said she'll gladly accept a bottle of wine. Judging by how much she drank last time, I'd be lying if I said I was surprised. I pull a fancy looking bottle of red out of my cellar and tell them it's a great bottle. It's obviously not true because I am done wasting good booze on these two fucking hicks that don't even appreciate it. Don't get me wrong, Luna di Luna is a decent wine, but far from the best bottle I own. The two of them head upstairs and I can finally have some peace and quiet to ponder upon the new information Annie gave me tonight.

* * *

I used to be into videogames when I was a kid but nowadays, I hardly play them. I am content indulging in simpler, more relaxing hobbies such as darts. Ever since I got released, I make it a point to throw darts for at least half an hour a day, all by myself of course. I don't use a traditional dartboard with points; instead I had one custom made with my half brother's picture on it of course. If I hit his face, I score five points; if I hit his heart, I score ten and if I hit his eye, I score fifteen. Throwing these rocket shaped needles is something that helps me think and that soothes me, unlike the two people humping upstairs. Trent and Annie have been going at it for quite a while and they're not even trying to be discreet about it either which makes it a little harder for me to focus on the problem at hand: Cartman wants to get himself a handgun, now what?

I could have someone tamper with it so that if and when he uses it, it would just explode in his face. It would be a fun prank to do, but is it revenge worthy? Absolutely not. No, I need something a little more drastic to take care of that bastard. What if someone got shot with Cartman's gun? What if Cartman's gun killed someone? What if my half brother got framed? Of course! If anything happened to his redhead bitch, it would destroy him emotionally; if she got murdered by his gun, he'd lose her forever and will be locked up in jail for a while! I throw my last dart and hit my half brother dead in the center of his forehead.

The lovely couple upstairs must be done: they've been quiet for a few minutes now and I head the water running: Annie is taking a shower. Surely enough, Trent is coming back downstairs. Good; it means I will get my turn really soon.

"How does it feel to be a man? Did you like it?" I ask my acolyte.

"It felt really good, but I had my eyes closed the whole time and I could only think of Lizzie." He replied.

"I figured that much. Listen, I had an idea: get your girlfriend to steal Cartman's gun." I say, grinning.

"Why do you need his gun?" He asks me, clearly perplexed.

"Well, it's rather simple: we kill his little bitch, and we frame him. He goes to jail for a really long time and I will find inner peace at last." I reveal, looking at Trent dead in the eyes.

Trent gives me one of these genuine, toothy smiles that you normally see on children's faces when they wake up on Christmas morning.

"I figured you'd find the idea rather suitable and appropriate." I add.

"I love the way you think, Scott." He admits.

The water ceases to run: Annie is done taking a shower. Listening to her and Trent fuck and coming up with such a genius idea put me in the mood and I know I deserve a little reward. I excuse myself and head upstairs. The ginger girl locked the bathroom door, so I patiently wait for her to come out. When the door opens, my little slut is wearing nothing but a towel around herself. She looks a little surprised to see me as she exits the bathroom, but the second I grabbed her arm and started pulling her towards my bedroom, I think she clicked.

"What are you doing?" She asks obviously panicked.

"It's my turn to fuck you." I brashly tell her.

"Scott, I have a boyfriend now. I don't want to cheat on him!" She exclaimed; that statement made me burst into laughter.

* * *

Trigger warning

* * *

"Your consent is not necessary." I tell her as I push her on my bed.

I position her face down on my bed. She tries to resist and wiggle away at first, but I firmly hold her head against the mattress. With my free hand, I grab a pillow and put it underneath her, thus elevating her tight, cute little ass. She begs me to stop, but I couldn't care less what she wants. I let go of her curly red hair for a moment, so I can remove my pants and my underwear and the little cunt takes the opportunity to try to flee. I quickly catch her and punch her on the side of her head. She screams, stumbles a bit and lands knees first onto the floor. Without hesitation, I grab her by the arm and drag her back onto my bed in the same position I had her in: on her stomach, her ass elevated for better access. My cock is rock hard: this is almost exactly like the dream I had where I fucked the living shit out of Cartman's bitch. Annie starts sobbing, but I could care less: at least, she stopped resisting. She screams as I penetrate her anus. I fuck her deeply and roughly, ignoring her cries and her pleas.

"You're a good little bitch, aren't you Annie? You love getting your little ass drilled, you dirty filthy girl!" I murmur, leaning in on top of her.

Annie starts sobbing uncontrollably, but I'm not stopping. Soon enough, I climax and fill her little ass hole with my seed. I pull out and make sure to spank that cute little butt I just brutalised. I did quite a number on her: she has a gapping ass hole with some of my semen dripping from it. She's still crying, but I think I know just how to cheer her up. I open the drawer on my night table and pull out a thousand bucks from the bottom of it and make the bills rain on her. She hasn't budged since I finished inside of her; I guess she's waiting for me to leave the room and doesn't want to see my face.

* * *

Trigger warning ends

* * *

I can hear the water is running again as I go downstairs; I guess Annie feels a little dirty for cheating on her boyfriend. It's so sad and yet funny that Trent most likely heard everything, and didn't even bother to come defend his girl. I love that he's loyal to me; other men would have had the decency to rescue a damsel in distress whether or not they loved them. Trent just let me anally rape his girlfriend.

I go to my living room with a satisfied smile plastered on my face. Trent looks at me sternly as I pour myself another glass of scotch and take a seat next to him.

"I assume you heard everything? Thank you for not interfering." I say prior to taking a sip of my precious liquid.

"No worries" He stoically replies.

"What will you say to her if she ever asks you why you didn't stop me?" I inquire.

"As far as she'll know, I dozed off and knew nothing of the situation. I need to keep her on my good side if we want the plan to work." He replies, completely emotionless.

I like this guy more and more each passing day.

* * *

Sorry about all the brutality, but it's crucial for what's going to happen in the next few chapters. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again – with the house purchase and getting everything ready, I don't really have much time to do anything fun.

Don't forget to review and thanks for reading.

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	16. Youth without youth

Hi everyone!

My original estimate called for 15-20 chapters, but I think it'll end up being more like 25-30 chapters.

Without further ado, please enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to be awesome and keep in mind that reviews are always welcome.

* * *

The dance competition is about to start and Ivy always gets nervous for that. She knows she's lousy dancer, but I've been coaching her almost every day and she's getting better and better at it. The fact that she won the first time she danced is still a mystery to me: maybe the crowd went easy on her because she had just started? Who knows? The only thing she wins consistently is the karaoke contest: she has won it every single Thursday since she started. I watch her selling her shots and going from table to table; I need to make sure no dirty ass pervert tries to touch her. Ivy constantly gives me grief for being over protective of her and although I realise that it can get overbearing, I frankly don't give a shit. There is no way in hell her safety can get compromised again: that night she was assaulted in the back alley freaked me out. I know I'm selfish and possessive as fuck: I feel a sting of jealousy every time a client buys her a shot and she has to sit with them and make small talk. I know it's ridiculous, but I can't help it.

I'm sitting at the same table I sat at the first night I danced with Ivy; it has the best view on the stage. Ashley just flagged Ivy and the other shot girls to gather behind the bar and the lights in the room are being dimmed. I taught Ivy a little choreography to the song _love fool_ and she's pretty good at it; if she wins the competition, she'll be thrilled.

I absentmindedly glance towards the door and notice some familiar faces. I can't fucking believe it: Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick, the two of them wearing suits, just walked in the place. Kenny has Bebe's Boobs on his shoulder, and the monkey is wearing a little blue dress that matches the colour of Kenny's shirt. The two guys notice me right away, wave at me and start walking towards my table. My heart starts pounding: if they see Ivy and recognise Kyle underneath all the makeup and the wig, it will not be cool.

"Hi Cartman, what the fuck are you doing here?" Kenny says as he and Stan sit down.

"I could ask you the same thing Kenny." I bluntly reply.

"What do you think he's doing? Checking out those babes is the closest Cartman will ever get to pussy." Stan says snickering.

Kenny and Stan start giggling like two ass holes.

"All jokes aside, we're here to cheer me up: now that my dream of hooking up with Bebe is forever dead, thanks to you, and I figured I'd check out this place. I heard the shot girls are hot." Kenny continues.

"She's still pissed about that a week later? Wow, what a cunt!" I say.

"Wendy is still a little upset too to be honest..." Stan confesses.

Our conversation is interrupted by Ashley announcing the contestants. The guys and I shift our attention to the stage. Chastity is the first one to perform, and she's dressed like a skank as usual. Kenny's eyes and mouth are wide open as he stares at her and I think I can see some drool going down his chin. I have a feeling that he'll come back here all the time and that would be fucking terrifying for Ivy. Holy shit, it just dawned on me that Stan and Kenny are going to see Ivy dancing on stage and that they might figure out her true identity due to the fact that her dancing is awful.

"Holy shit dude! She's so fucking hot!" Kenny squeals.

"You've seen nothing yet. Chastity is not even the hottest." I say nonchalantly, pointing at the bar. "Those are all shot girls and they will all dance for us." I add.

They're going to see Ivy on stage anyway, so there's no point trying to defuse their attention. Stan and Kenny both look towards the bar and smile. Kenny must feel like a kid in a candy store right now. He looks so excited that it's almost cute.

"Do they dance every night?" Stan asks.

"No, they only dance on Friday nights. Then the audience votes on which girl danced the best and people can bid on the winner. Whoever bids the most amount of money gets to spend the rest of the night with the girl and she'll dance with the winner at least once." I calmly explain.

I think I just made Kenny's day: he looks very excited and I have a feeling he's going to bid on whichever girl wins. Kenny's smile is suddenly replaced by a puzzled look: he just spotted Ivy walking towards the stage as Chastity returns behind the bar. Ivy starts dancing and unsurprisingly massacres the nice choreography I taught her: I don't get why she's able to do it well at home and then forgets everything the second she goes on stage.

"She's hotter than the blond chick from before, but they shouldn't allow her to dance dude!" Kenny says.

"Yeah! I agree: She fucking sucks." Stan adds.

"Hai! Don't say that about Ivy. She's trying her best." I accidently blurt out.

 _Way to go Eric: just fucking spill the beans while you're at it._ Stan and Kenny turn to me, grins adorning their faces. I feel myself blush, which is very unusual.

"Is she your crush? I didn't know you were into redheads now." Kenny asks in a teasing manner.

"No, she is not my crush." I reply nervously.

"It's okay to have a crush on someone completely out of your league. A guy is allowed to dream on." Stan mocks me.

"Screw you Stan. She isn't out of my league. In fact, she's my girlfriend" I smugly reply with a slanted smile on my face.

I have a feeling my two shithead friends don't believe me since they're both cracking up.

"Is it me, or you _girlfriend_ looks like a female version of Kyle?" Kenny asks.

Stan immediately starts analysing Ivy's face. I'm starting to stress out now.

"Holy crap! Kenny, you're right: She does look a little bit like Kyle. Maybe that's why Cartman has a crush on her." Stan chuckles.

"Hai! Ivy is way prettier than Kyle." I proclaim, trying to keep appearances up.

Stan and Kenny just keep ripping on me and I just let them do it. If I get too riled up they'll actually get suspicious. I try to calm the situation down by asking them why Kyle didn't join them, but I quickly realise that it wasn't the best idea.

"Well, I tried calling him several times, but he didn't pick up, and I tried texting him and he never replied. Kenny and I even stopped at his house, but seemed as though he wasn't there. I wonder where he is." Stan explains while Kenny just stares at Mia dancing.

The competition is finally over and Stan, Kenny and I cast our votes. I obviously vote for Ivy, but Stan and Kenny both agreed that Mia was the best dancer and Kenny finds her really, really pretty. A few moments later, Mia is declared the winner and the bidding commences. Kenny bid five hundred dollars, but he was outdone by another patron who bid double what Kenny was willing to spend.

"Where the fuck did you find five hundred bucks?" Stan asks him.

"I have a part-time job." Kenny replies, a little embarassed.

Kenny knows better than to let any one of his friends know how he earns money. He knows I would fucking murder him if anyone ever figured out how much drugs I move and I doubt he would want to attract all that attention to himself: his folks have been arrested more than once for producing the worst crystal meth in all of Earth's history.

I look up and my blood freezes in my veins: Ivy is leaving from behind the bar and making her way to my table. I guess she couldn't tell who I'm sitting with. She approaches and suddenly her expression changes: I guess she just realized who else is at my table and now, she looks like a deer caught in headlights.

* * *

As if completely forgetting my choreography for the dance competition wasn't bad enough, Stan and Kenny decided to come to Vatican tonight. Just my luck! I saw Eric was sitting with two other guys, but I wasn't expecting these two. Granted, the fact that one of them has a monkey should have been a dead give away, but my I'm not used to see my friends wearing suits. I got close enough to Eric's table for Stan and Kenny to notice me; I can't just back up in my tracks now. Eric looks stressed out and rightfully so. I really hope the guys don't recognize me; the humiliation would be too much to bear and I'll never live it down. I have to do what I do best: Be a good girl and go sell some shots! As I approach Eric's table, Stan and Kenny have a huge smirk plastered on their faces and I'm honestly worried that they recognised me.

"Good evening gentlemen, could I possibly interest you into some scotch or some sherry?" I ask as sensually as I can.

"Of course we'd like some scotch. Pour yourself one too: I have a few questions lovely lady." Kenny says, winking at me.

I do as I'm told and hope for the best. I sit down next to Eric while Kenny raises his glass.

"To the hot chicks of Vatican" He says cheerfully.

"To the hot chicks of Vatican" We all chant prior to taking a sip.

"Eric said you're his girlfriend. Is that true?" Kenny asks, raising an eyebrow.

So that's what all that grinning was about: they just didn't think Eric could score a hottie like me. That, or they figured out who I am and didn't tell Cartman that they did and they're just trying to embarrass both of them. The first possibility seems much more probable.

"Of course I'm not his girlfriend." I say as a devious smile forms on my face and I raise my left hand, flashing them the engagement ring. "I'm his fiancée."

Stan and Kenny's jaws dropped. They both look at Eric, who is now smiling smugly as he introduces me to them. This is actually quite fun.

"Aren't you a little young to be engaged dude?" Stan blurts out.

"Stan, I'll have you know that I am very mature for my age and that when you meet the love of your life, you can't fuck around." Eric replies while he puts his arm around me and pulls me closer. I take this chance to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Holy shit Cartman! Congratulations! Why didn't you tell us about her?" Kenny asks.

"He was probably too scared you'd steal her away." Stan immediately rebukes before Eric has a chance to say anything.

We all burst into laughter at that. Mia starts dancing with the highest bidder and Kenny makes his way to the dance floor with Bebe's Boobs. Mia is not even paying attention to her dance partner because she is captivated by Kenny dancing with his monkey. Kenny is a smart guy indeed: Christa, Gloria, Chastity, Mia, Annie, Ashley and even Lola are all over him because they think Bebe's Boobs is adorable. Good job Kenny!

The night goes by and all of us are having so much fun that Cartman decides to invite Stan, Kenny and all the Vatican staff back to his place to party some more after closing time. Everyone is thrilled by the idea, even though Lola, Chastity and Mike turn down the offer. Even Annie is exited to hang out with us. Speaking of Annie, she's been a little off ever since she started dating the blond dude. She's more quiet than usual and she looks tired for some reason, but she's still much nicer than when I first started working here.

Eric offered to give Stan and Kenny a ride to his place since the guys took a cab to come to Vatican tonight. Stan sits in the front and Kenny and I sit in the back. As Eric drives, my cell starts ringing and I wonder who could possibly call me at this time. As I pull it out of my jacket's pocket, I see it's Stan, who's sitting in front of me that is calling me. He turns around and looks at me with a perplexed look.

"Who's calling you sweetie?" Eric asks, probably aware of what just happened.

"Hum, no one important." I reply with a weak voice.

"It was a guy named Stan." Kenny says, perplexed.

This is really not cool. I have a feeling that the guys figured everything out.

"That's funny: I just called Kyle to see if he wanted to join us at Cartman's house." Stan adds.

"It's odd how you have the same phone and ring tone as Kyle." Kenny tells me.

"Kenny, everyone and their moms have an iphone, why is it so weird?" Cartman immediately replies so I don't have to.

My heart is pounding in my chest and I feel my palm becoming sweaty. I see Eric's reflection in the rear view mirror and he looks as nervous as I feel.

"Honey, who the fuck is Stan?" Eric asks me, trying to fix the situation.

I blurt out the first thing I can think of. "He's the crazy ex I told you about."

Stan and Kenny seem satisfied with my answer and stop asking questions. I know Stan will want to know where the fuck I was tonight so I'll have to think of an excuse.

* * *

We're all at Cartman's place and the girls are all over Bebe's Boobs. They take turns holding her and petting her. The small primate doesn't seem to mind all the attention that she's getting.

"Ladies, would you like to see something cool?" Kenny asks them.

"Please keep your dick in your pants." Cartman says before any of the girls gets to reply.

The sisters of Vatican, me included, are all laughing at that statement although I suspect Mia actually wouldn't mind seeing Kenny's penis.

"Fuck off Cartman! Bring me some weed, fat ass." Kenny automatically replies as everyone else snicker.

Eric flips him off and then gets up to fetch a small baggie full of weed from one of the kitchen's drawers. He hands to directly to Bebe's Boobs who immediately starts to roll a joint. The girls can't get over the fact that a monkey is rolling the joints we're about to smoke. I notice that Mia is all over Kenny; I'll definitely have to ask her if she has a crush on him.

"Oh my God Kenny, your monkey is adorable." She squeals.

We head outside and Kenny sparks the joint that his monkey just rolled for us. He made her roll three of them since we're a lot of people. Eric starts showing off his brand new toy: a Glock G21 that he acquired semi-legally. He purchased it in a store using his fake ID and quite frankly I was and still am completely against the idea. I know he got it to protect me, but I would have almost preferred if he had acquired it illegally so that if, God forbid, anything was to happen, no one would be able to trace it back to him.

"Why the fuck did you need a gun Cartman?" Stan asks him, perplexed.

"For safety reasons. Ivy got attacked two weeks ago when she was leaving Vatican." He replies.

"You didn't tell us that you got attacked. Poor you, what happened?" Mia asks me with concern.

"Well, I left through the backdoor to go catch the bus and some guy tried to kidnap me. He had a rag in his hand and I felt his erection against my back. He clearly wanted to rape me. Thank God Eric intervened because I'd probably be dead right now if he didn't." I confess.

"Are you kidding us? Why didn't you say anything? What did that creep look like?" Gloria interjects.

"I didn't want to make a big deal out of it to be honest, and I have no clue what the guy looked like. He took me from behind." I sadly reply.

Annie's face suddenly turns all pale and she's obviously upset.

"Excuse me." She says as she runs back inside.

The Vatican girls, me included, all look at each other. This is not something that the usually blunt Annie would do. Something isn't right.

"I'll go check on her." I say before I follow her.

I could hear her throwing up in the washroom. I knocked and asked her to let me in. A few moments later, Annie unlocked the door and I go inside. Her face is red and puffy and tears are streaming down her cheeks.

"What's wrong?" I ask her, genuinely concerned.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything is good." She replies in between sobs.

"Something's wrong. You wouldn't be in this state if everything was good." I insist.

"It's just your story sounded really scary, that's all." She says, still sobbing.

"Oh my God Annie! Has anything happened to you? I didn't want to freak you out with my story."

The ginger girl doesn't even have time to answer. She barely had time to turn towards the toilet and throws up again. I hold her hair and try to help her the best way I can. I am convinced that something bad happened to her or she wouldn't have reacted this way and although we didn't get along when we first met each other, seeing her in this state is breaking my heart.

"Ivy, you have to promise me not to tell anyone that I was crying. Just tell them that I drank too much at work and that the weed made me dizzy." She implores.

"No problem, but please tell me what's wrong?"

"I can't. I wish I could, but I can't." She says as tears stream down her cheeks.

"If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you." I say as I hug the ginger girl.

"Thank you Ivy. Thank you for everything."

* * *

I hope you enjoyed reading this, but I must warn you: as of next chapter, shit is getting REAL! Stay tuned and don't forget to review.

Love,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	17. Die, die my darling

My boss is in training this week, which means I can pretty much do whatever the fuck I want if there's no business to process, such as working on this story. This is another slightly dark chapter.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and don't forget to review.

* * *

"You're basically telling me she saw it?" Scott excitedly asks me.

"Yeah. I just got off the phone with her now. She went to Cartman's house with a bunch of coworkers including Ivy, as well as Marsh and McCormick. The idiot was apparently waving it around and showing it off." I reply, a smirk forming on my face.

I was surprised to see Marsh and McCormick at Vatican last night and although Cartman hasn't recognized me yet, technically three brains are better than one. I didn't want one of them to get suspicious and blow my cover, so I discretely left the premises before any of those ass holes glanced in my direction.

I snapped at Annie when she called to say she had seen Cartman's gun: I asked her why she didn't just make up a bullshit excuse to leave the place and come to Scott's place to tell us right away, completely forgetting what happened to her here a week ago. Her voice started to quiver at that point and she just said she was too tired and just wanted to sleep. I immediately regretted my burst of anger; Annie hasn't mentioned anything to me about what Scott did to her, but whenever his name is being said, I can see her freckled face getting pale and every time I ask her to come by, she always has something better to do.

I left the boarding house at Scott's request to come live here with him. The two of us are lonely souls and he truly appreciates my company. For that I am truly grateful; it gives me the hope that I will eventually be able to move on and have some sort of normality back into my life. It's nice to live in a house and to not have to share a bedroom with anyone.

"Excellent news Trent; we can finally proceed." He says grinning from ear to ear.

"Alright Scott, I'll text her to meet me at the coffee shop." I sigh.

"Why don't you just call her, or text her instead of meeting her in person? You just need to tell her to snatch the gun at the first opportunity she gets." Scott asks me.

"With all due respect, she hasn't been the same since you had your way with her. She was ruthless when I met her; now, she's reduced to nothing but a hollow shell. I need to sweet talk her into doing everything." I answer, a little annoyed.

Scott looks at me with disgust and shakes his head.

"I paid her and – "He starts.

"You raped her, Scott. You fucking broke her spirits despite the fact that she's your ally." I interrupt.

"Has she said anything to you?" He sternly asks.

"No, she hasn't said a thing yet." I admit.

Scott smiles again. "I told you that little slut liked it." He says prior to lightly chuckling.

"Whatever you say, Scott." I say, completely discouraged by his complete lack of self-awareness.

Don't get me wrong: I truly appreciate everything he's done for me so far, but if he raped a girl that allied herself to him, especially since she did nothing wrong towards him, what is he capable of doing to me? I trust this guy less and less. The more I think of last Saturday night, the more I regret not intervening. I may not love Annie, but she didn't deserve getting brutalized by Scott.

* * *

The tension in Scott's house is rising with each passing day. It's been a week since I've met Annie at Starshmucks and told her it's time to put the plan in motion, but she still hasn't retrieved the gun. Scott is getting very impatient and he takes out his frustration by putting pressure on me, so that in turn I put pressure on Annie. The good news is that Annie informed me that her boss will be out of town tomorrow night and that when he's out of town, Cartman is his replacement and therefore spends the vast majority of the night in Paolucci's office and that he leaves his jacket there. She said she'll have to wait until he steps out of the office to, let's say, go to the washroom and she can sneak in a take it.

Annie and I agreed that once she has the gun, she'll give me a call and meet me in the alley behind Vatican where she'll give me the weapon. She mentioned that Cartman's girl switched shifts with another girl and will be present on that night.

"That's very valuable information, Trent. Once the gun will be in your possession, have her lure Ivy in the alley and put that bitch down." Scott instructs me, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That could work, but what's the rush? Can't we kill her some other time?" I ask him.

"Well no, of course not. Think about it: if Cartman reports the gun as stolen it'll be easy to prove that he was set up. I say shoot his bitch and then make sure to leave with the gun. We'll clean it up and drop it someplace obvious, but not too obvious. It won't be long until someone finds it and then, my half-brother will go to jail." He answers prior to roaring in laughter.

* * *

This alley smells like shit and it's a little too creepy for my liking. I was at the coffee shop across the street when I got her call. She said she was going to tell her coworkers that she was going out for a smoke and asked me to quickly cross the street so we could take care of it as fast as possible before the others started looking for her. I've been here five minutes, and she still hasn't come out. At last, Vatican's back door opens and my ginger girlfriend comes out. I can tell from the expression her face that she's having second thoughts: maybe getting her to be friends with Cartman's girl wasn't such a good idea.

"It was about time Annie, what took you so long?" I say, trying to play it cool.

"I had to let Lola know that I was stepping out and she was quite busy." She flatly states.

Annie lights up her cigarette and looks straight into my eyes; she looks distraught. I have a bad feeling.

"I can't do this Trent, we can't do this." She says, shaking her head.

Fucking hell! I didn't go through all this shit just so that this fucking cunt decides that she doesn't want to play anymore.

"Babe, you know how important this is to me, right? You know what Cartman put me through." I say, trying to remind her that this is not just about her and her little feelings.

"Trent, please listen to me –"she starts.

"I spent over a decade behind bars because Cartman and his buddies set me up. Please, you can't take that away from me." I cut her off.

"We need to stay away from Scott; that guy is fucking dangerous!" She replies.

I take a deep breath and start thinking. Annie clearly refuses to cooperate; therefore I'll have to take the gun by force. She's wearing an outfit that is skin-tight and without pockets, so the only logical place she could be carrying the gun in is her fanny pack because there is nowhere else she could conceal it in.

"Why are you saying that?" I ask her, taking one step in her direction and playing along.

"Trent, you need to believe me on this one – He – Scott is crazy! We better back out now and just move on." She says, her body quivering.

"Sweetie, we'll take care of Cartman and then we can put this whole thing behind us and we never need to see that guy's face ever again." I say, trying to reassure her.

"I don't want to hurt Eric and Ivy anymore: he tried to do the same thing to Ivy." She says as she starts to sob.

"What are you talking about? I'm not following you." I say, although I think I understand.

"Trent, I can't do this. I won't allow you to continue this madness. I'll go to the police if I have to." She continues, trying to sound firm but failing miserably.

Oh, no you won't! I am not going back to jail, but I'm not backing out either. This means war Annie; you should know better than to fuck with me. This will not end well for you, I swear to God it won't; not anymore!

"Honey, what happened for you to be like this?" I ask, trying to suppress all hints of rage in my voice.

Annie looks up at me again, her teary eyes imploring me to quit questioning her, but I'm far from done: I'll get that gun no matter what. I even took the time to wear leather gloves to pick it up and I hope Annie did the same.

"Last time I was at his place, the night you and I had sex, he grabbed me and took me to his room where he raped me after hitting me across the head. I know you had dozed off and that you were so intoxicated that you never even realized it. I also found out that the last night Scott came to Vatican himself, Ivy got attacked in this very same alley. He's a monster." She says after taking a deep breath.

Annie is shaking like a leaf and crying uncontrollably. As disgusting as I find Scott's behaviour, I had decided weeks ago that I'd look past that until my revenge was complete. I already knew that he is fucked up in the head, but his level of insanity is frightening: Annie is right about that. But Annie is also trying to make my vendetta fail, and that's unforgivable. It's time for me to act: Without saying a word, I walk up to her and embrace her. Annie rests her head on my shoulder and just keeps sobbing, probably also smearing her snot and her melting makeup all over my jacket. I shush her and lie to her, telling her everything will be okay and that I'll always be there for her. I gently rub her back and as soon as I felt her body relaxing, my right hand makes its way down to the buckle of her fanny pack which I undo. I take possession of it and push a very confused Annie to the ground in a quick thrust.

She looks up at me, incredulous and most likely trying to make sense of what just happened. I quickly open the pouch and search for the gun while Annie struggles to get back on her feet; change and bills are getting scattered all over the ground, but I find the gun in it as I predicted. I am amazed that it's loaded: Cartman is such a careless fool! I promptly point it at Annie, taking a silencer out of my pocket. When I found out the make and model Cartman's gun, I made sure to order a silencer and extra ammo: it's hard to kill someone with an unloaded gun, and it's unthinkable to kill someone discretely without a silencer.

"You know Annie, I was hoping you'd come to your senses. You leave me no choice, but before I kill you, there's something I want you to know." I say as I screw the suppressor on the pistol.

Annie managed to get herself up: she's resting against the wall, completely powerless and sobbing. She looks absolutely pitiful, but all the sympathy I felt for her vanished the second she said she wanted to back out and call the police.

"You know the night Scott raped you? He did so with my permission. I heard your screams and cries, and I didn't give a flying fuck about saving you. I just needed you to be friends with Ivy." I coldly add.

Annie starts wailing uncontrollably. You can see the pain and sorrow drenching her red, puffy face. Her lips tremble as though she wants to say some last words, a request which I will grant: all though she was going to betray Scott and me, she did serve us well.

"Did you ever love me?" She asks in a weak voice.

"No, but you were useful. Now, you're no longer an asset to me." I say, looking at her dead in the eye prior to shooting her.

Upon receiving a bullet to the abdomen, Annie falls to the ground face down. I can hear her drawing her last breaths in agony. It won't be long before she dies.

"I only ever loved one person in this world and her name is Elisabeth Foley." I say before shooting her again, this time in the chest.

I can't hear her agonized breaths anymore, so I guess I did her a courtesy by ending her sufferings. After removing the silencer and dissimulating it along with the pistol in my jacket, I walk away and head towards the bus stop. I can't wait to be back at Scott's place: I am exhausted and I need to throw back a few beers.

* * *

"Let me get this straight: She didn't want to go through with the plan anymore and she was going to report us to the police if we continued without her?" Scott asks me with worry on his freckled face.

"Yeah, that's right." I reply.

"In that case, how did you manage to get the gun?" He asks, clearly getting agitated.

"I took it from her and killed her. I'm sorry, but I had no choice." I say, looking at the floor.

Scott's jaw drops: I bet he wasn't expecting me to be capable of shooting my girlfriend knowing that her cousin is the love of my life. In all honesty, I am not looking forward to getting a call from Lizzie crying over Annabelle: those two were really close and Lizzie will be heartbroken. Scott starts laughing uncontrollably; he creeps me out when he does that.

"It's fine Trent; that slut was going to betray us anyways. This is actually a blessing in disguise: a dead shot girl that got killed with Cartman's gun. You wore gloves when you took it, right?" He asks me.

"Of course I did! I'm not an idiot!" I brashly reply; I hate when people take me for an idiot.

"Excellent! We're going to hold the gun for a week or so, and then we'll get rid of it and everything will fall back into place naturally." Scott says to me, a satisfied smile on his face.

Today I discovered I have something in me that I never knew I had. I was convicted for aggravated assault and attempted murder, but today I actually committed a crime for the first time in my life. Annie was both the girl I lost my virginity too and my first kill. This situation still seems surreal, almost like a dream and something is starting to bother me: Any normal person would be freaking out right about now. Any normal person would be feeling remorse, or excitement or anything, really. But not me: I feel absolutely nothing.

Goodbye Annie: I'll see you in hell.

* * *

Stay tuned for the next chapter: you're in for a heck of a surprise!

Thank you for reading and don't forget to be awesome.

I love you all,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	18. Smooth criminal

You're in for a hell of a ride!

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Don't forget to review.

* * *

I'm exceptionally working on a Saturday night because Tony is out of town and Eric has to replace him, so I switched shifts with Chastity. An hour into my shift, Eric intercepted me as I was getting out of the washroom and he asked me to follow him. Next thing I knew, I was being led to the employee locker room and the moment we were in there, Eric locked the door behind him. He then proceeded to pull me close to himself and passionately kiss me. I felt his erect manhood rubbing on me through his pants and I figured out what he wanted from me.

"You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?" I tell my fiancé as he kisses my neck.

"I'm crazy about you alright, Poison Ivy." He whispers in my ear.

Eric lifts my dress up and pulls down my lace panties, thus exposing my own semi-hard cock. He then proceeds to grab my ass while I unzip his pants and pull them half way down along with his boxers effectively revealing his rock hard penis which I promptly take in my mouth, feeling his soft, warm skin sliding all the way in until I choke on it. I go at it for a little while until Eric decides that I sucked his cock enough for the time being and he asks me to stand up again, a request to which I gladly comply. He starts kissing me passionately while I start unbuttoning his shirt, but before I have time to finish, he pulls his lips from mine and turns me around so that I face away from him. He starts kissing and lightly nibbling the nape of my neck before he bends me over and inserts a finger in my ass and then another. I begin to moan, finding each firm thrust of his digits more and more pleasurable until he pulls them out and I feel something wet and slimy circling my cock craving ass hole which sends shivers up and down my spine. Now that my anus is loosened up and well lubricated, Eric bends me over the bench and promptly takes out his little box and draws himself two lines of coke on my ass which he eagerly snorts. He gives my ass hole a few more licks, for good measure, and next thing I know, I feel his manhood entering me. I evidently let out deep moans as his rock hard cock goes in and out of me.

"You like that, don't you my little Jew?" He says sensually.

"I fucking love it! More! I want more! Deeper! Faster" I exclaim in between moans.

Eric listens to my demands and starts pounding my tight little ass even faster and the pleasure is far too intense: I let out a cry as I climax all over the bench I'm bent over on. After a few moments, my fiancé lets out a deep groan as he reaches his orgasm and fills me with his seed. He lies on top of me for a few moments before pulling himself out of me, thus freeing me so I can stand upright once more. Cartman opens Gloria's locker and pulls out a tissue box that he tosses at me and then points at the semen covered bench.

"You made a bloody mess Ivy; clean it up. Hopefully, you didn't get any on your lovely little dress." He says with a smirk on his face.

I glance towards the bench and see the damage I've done: There's some on top of the bench and on its leg, some all over the floor. That's without counting the semen that got smeared on my own crotch. What a mess indeed! I start cleaning up and thankfully, Eric helps me with my task.

"Thank you Eric." I tell him with sincerity.

"Come on Ivy, it's my fault you made this mess in the first place" He replies tenderly.

That's not what I mean at all. "No, I meant thanks for this experience: we've never fucked somewhere we could easily get caught. It was pretty exciting." I continue as a blush appears on my already flustered face.

A devious smile appears on my fiancé's face. "If you want, we could fuck in the school library or in the school's bathroom." He proposes, raising his eyebrow.

I can't help but giggle a bit. "Are you nuts? If we get caught, not only could we be expelled, but we'd never live it down. Imagine what it would do to our reputation as arch-rivals."

* * *

I exit the locker room first: Eric will stay in there for another five minutes so that no one can figure out what we were doing in there. Paolucci would kill us both if he found out his employees are fucking like rabbits in the workplace. Gloria sees me and quickly walks up to me.

"Have you seen Annie anywhere?" She asks.

"No, to be honest, I haven't." I nervously reply.

"It's just crowded tonight and she's nowhere to be found." She continues.

"Did you check the washroom?" I ask.

"No, let's check it out." She says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the ladies room.

The washroom seemed empty when we walked into it, but we still took the time to inspect every stall. Gloria and I briefly discuss how strange Annie has been acting in the past few weeks and how her behaviour is starting to worry us. We check every stall, just in case: according to Gloria, one of the down sides of being a pretty shot girl is that you never know when a patron will try to slip you a roofie. Our search for Annie is unsuccessful: she's not in the washroom it seems. The two of us exit the lavatory and as we do so, I see Eric leaving the locker room and going back to the office as though nothing extremely perverted occurred in there. Gloria and I also see a pale looking Mike running into the office mere moments after Eric entered it. Could it be that someone in the line up is acting like an ass hole? That's a possibility. Mere seconds later, Eric and Mike both exit the office and head towards the back door. Once the work day is over, I'll need to ask Eric what all this fuss is about.

Gloria and I enter the lounge area and upon seeing me, Lola immediately flags me over. She tells me that the band that is performing tonight have chosen me to be at their disposition for the night. I'm very pleased by all this: extra cash is always welcome. Gloria takes this opportunity to ask Lola if she's seen Annie anywhere.

"She went out for a smoke, but that was like twenty minutes ago" Lola answers.

"She should definitely be done by now" Gloria replies, worry evident on her face.

I start heading towards the stage to see if the Woodsman, the band that's performing tonight, need anything when Eric runs up to the stage and grabs the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, an incident has occurred and we are obliged to evacuate Vatican. We apologize for the inconvenience, and thank you for your continued patronage. Please stay calm as you exit the premises." Eric announces to the crowd.

What's going on? My fiancé instruct the crowd to leave through the front door. He doesn't look well: He looks pale and worried. I look to Lola and Gloria and notice they seem as puzzled as me.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask Eric once every single patron exited the lounge.

Eric grabs his face with both hands and sighs.

"Sweetie, Annie is no longer with us." Is his reply.

"She quit? Why would you have the place evacuated because we lost a staff member?" I ask, a little annoyed.

Eric looks up at me like I'm a retard.

"She's dead you fucking Jew dumb ass!" He spits back.

My blood froze in my veins. I am highly skeptical of what Eric is saying: I saw Annie maybe an hour ago, and she didn't look sick or anything.

"What?"

Eric takes a deep breath. "Some random people used the back alley as a short cut and found her body. They told Mike that a dead girl was right next to our emergency exit. He came to get me so we could check it out." He sadly says.

I am flabbergasted. I immediately run towards the back door, ignoring Eric's pleas to stay in. As I step outside, I see her. Her inanimate body lies face down on the ground in a pool of blood and money is scattered everywhere. I promptly throw up, remembering my own experience in this very same alley. Mere seconds later, I hear the back door open and Eric shows up to comfort me as I start crying. He takes me by the hand and leads me back to the lounge where Mike has all the staff from both the club upstairs and my close colleagues gathered to tell them what has occurred. Everyone is shocked beyond belief.

The police show up after a few minutes and they start taking our depositions. It's kind of weird talking to a police officer as Ivy, but I make due. Under Eric's advice, I tell them about the night I was assaulted in that very same alley. Eric is convinced that it's the same guy who did this. What a bloody mess. After a few hours, Eric learns that the club will have to remain closed for some time so that the police can carry on their investigation. I really hope they catch the scumbag that killed Annie. Eric calls Tony and informs him of what occurred tonight: Tony is devastated by the news.

While Eric is busy handling this mess, all I can do is bear witness: I watch the paramedics put Annie into a blue body bag while investigators are picking up her fanny pack and the scattered money for evidence. I could really use a joint to mellow me out right now and I think that the second Eric and I get home, I'm rolling one up. It's now almost four o'clock in the morning and I am exhausted as the cops finally leave this place: Eric, Mike and I are the last people left since everyone else went home. My fiancé and I bid Mike good night and Eric goes back to the office to grab his jacket while I wait for him in the lobby. When Eric walks out of the office, he looks pale as fuck.

"What's up?" I ask.

He looks at me and puts a stray curly lock of hair behind me ear before kissing me on the forehead.

"Except for what went down between us in the locker room, this night has been pure utter shit." He replies.

* * *

"What do you mean it's gone?" I ask, infuriated.

I just want to punch Cartman in the face right now. I had told him weeks ago that getting a handgun with a fake ID was a dumb ass idea especially since his ID card has his real address on it. The fat idiot can't find his gun: He is convinced he had it when we got to Vatican, but when we left, he checked his pocket and it wasn't there. I figured he left it at my place, but it's not here.

"Kyle, I have no idea what happened to it." He says desperately.

"Are you at least going to inform the police?"

"Annie got shot in the back alley and I magically lost a brand new gun: if I inform the cops, guess who their number one suspect will be?" He replies nervously.

"How could you be so careless? How could you leave a loaded pistol unsupervised?"

"I don't know, Kyle. It was a mistake-"He starts

"A mistake? That was a mistake? The mistake was getting the gun in the first place!" I spit.

"Kyle, I-"He starts as tears form in his eyes, but I couldn't care less.

"Who the fuck looses a handgun?" I scream, feeling my face turn red.

"I-"

"Shut the fuck up and get the hell out of my house, you stupid fucking fat ass bastard!" I scream again.

Eric looks at me bewildered. Although I asked him to leave, he's not moving and I think he needs encouragement to get the fuck out of my sight.

"Are you deaf, fat ass? Leave! You are no longer welcome in my house!" I sternly say.

"But-"

"No buts! You are so fucking irresponsible, it makes me sick!" I yell once more.

He looks like a battered dog, but I don't really care. I am so bloody pissed off at him and his carelessness that I wouldn't care if he dropped dead on the ground right now. I look at my left hand a take off the emerald ring he gave me.

"And take this with you! No way in hell I am getting married to an irresponsible idiot like you." I screech as I toss the ring in his face.

Without another word, fat ass gets up from the chair he was sitting on and picks up the ring as he fixates the ground. He slowly makes his way to my front door and takes a glance back at me. As his dull hazel eyes meet my stone cold emerald ones, I noticed how utterly crushed he looks. My anger prevents me from feeling a sliver of empathy for him: what he did was too careless for me to forgive him. He opens the door, his eyes still rested on mine.

"Out!" I shout.

Without another word, the fat fuck sighs and makes his way out. I'm very surprised he didn't slam the door behind him. Eric Theodore Cartman and I have officially broken up: Good riddance!

* * *

I hope you all figured out why I had to name her Annie. No, it's not because she's ginger: it's because she got murdered by a smooth criminal!

Stay tuned for the next chapter and please don't forget to review and comment.

Love you all,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	19. Framed

This is the chapter you've all been waiting for!

Enjoy and don't forget to review

* * *

The past ten days have been a nightmare and a heart ache for me: Kyle has been avoiding me like the plague, and Vatican is still shut down due to the police investigation. I've wanted to talk to him and try to somehow salvage our friendship, possibly even get back together, but he sticks to Stan and Kenny like glue. He hasn't picked up his phone: well, he actually did once when I suppressed my number, but promptly hung up as soon as he recognized my voice. My world is empty without him; hell, I'd even go back to our constant fights from the past, anything to hear his voice and have some sort of interaction with him again. Stan and Kenny asked me if anything was up and I just told them that they suck too much for me to still hang out with them: it was a lie, of course, but the two of them took offence. It's probably for the best anyway. I had a good month of fun, joy and happiness, and now I'm back to being lonely and filled with sorrow.

I went to visit my mom the day following the break up and she looked terrible. The nurse who takes care of her told me that at this point, only a miracle could save her. Upon hearing these words, I darted to the bathroom and cried there, alone, for a good half hour. Why is it that whenever I love someone, something fucked up happens to them? I must be cursed.

I park my car as I arrive to church for Annie's funeral. All staff members from Vatican, including the employees from the club upstairs are there along with Tony. The atmosphere is as grim as you could imagine it to be. I am sad and troubled that Annie is no longer with us and that she was murdered in such a terrible way, but in a way I'm glad that she was the one to die and not Kyle. I am convinced that the creepy pseudo rapist is the culprit. The ceremony is as boring and as miserable as you'd expect it to be: everyone is crying, everyone is trying to find sense in this whole mess, but no one has any answers. I look around and I wonder why Annie's boyfriend is nowhere to be found: that blond guy seemed to be really into her. Maybe he's too devastated to bear seeing her getting buried? If that's the case, he's not a man: that would make him the biggest pussy on Earth. The funny thing is I don't even know his name. I didn't know Annie's last name was Foley and that she was related to the Foley ginger kids I used to torment back when I was a child.

After the ceremony, everyone was invited for some refreshments and finger foods in the church's basement by the Foley family. I go in regardless although I haven't had much of an appetite and all I want to do is lie in bed all day to try to forget about Kyle. I walk towards the refreshment table absentmindedly in order to grab a soft drink and accidentally bump into someone.

"Excuse me." I immediately say.

"Watch where you're going, fat ass." A familiar voice replies.

Out of all the people in this place, I had to bump into Ivy. I don't know whether I should feel happy that she spoke to me or sad that she's still livid. I take a good look at her face and notice that she looks tired and she seems as miserable as I am.

"Hello Ivy, how have you been?" I say, sounding pitiful.

"I've had better days, yourself?" She replies, sounding just as pitiful as me.

"Same here." I utter, sounding just as miserable as I feel.

We stare in each other's eyes for a moment, a moment that seems to last forever. Her emerald eyes have cried a lot lately, and it pains me to see her like this. She looks so fragile, so lonely and so miserable. It's entirely my fault for losing that stupid gun; why did I even get it in the first place? Oh, yeah! It was to protect the love of my life who now hates my guts. Maybe this shitty situation is just karma for all the bad shit I've done to people. Maybe, I don't deserve to be happy.

"Well, I have to get going. See you around, I guess." Ivy says as she lowers her eyes to the ground.

As I sadly watch her make her way to the door, Mia and Gloria come up to me and take turns hugging me. At this point, I feel a lump forming in my throat and I start tearing up.

"What happened between the two of you? The two of you look miserable." Gloria asks me.

"I guess it wasn't meant to be." I feebly say as a single tear rolls off my cheek.

In reality, I don't have the balls to tell them that it's because I'm a completely irresponsible idiot that managed to lose a fire arm that I purchased with fake IDs. If anyone finds it and does something stupid with it, it'll be traced to me. Kyle is absolutely right: I'm a fucking dumb ass. I had it all, and now I lost it all.

"You guys should get back together! Go get her, tiger!" Mia says, trying to sound as encouraging as possible.

"I don't think it's a possibility."

I completely lose my composure and I need to get out of here as fast as possible: I feel like I'm suffocating in here. I just want to go home, wrap myself in the blanket that Kyle left me when he rescued me from the jewpacabra and eat a bucket of mint and chocolate chips ice cream while crying my life out.

"Excuse me. I need to go." I say as I bolt out of the room so that no one sees me cry.

* * *

When I got home after the funeral, I fed Mrs. Kitty and followed through with what I had planned: I put on my PJs, wrapped Kyle's blanket around my shoulder and ate a whole carton of ice cream while absentmindedly watching television and wailing like the fat baby I am. Crying so much exhausts me and I doze off.

I wake up when I hear a knock on the door and I realize that it's dark outside. I quickly check the time: it's a little past seven o'clock. I must have slept at least a couple of hours. I get up and make my way to the door to see who it could possibly be. I open the door...

"Khal! What are you doing here?" I ask, surprised to see him here.

"Can I come in Cartman?" He asks.

I signal him to walk right in. He makes his way to the living room while he takes off his jacket which he then tosses on my armchair. He sits down and indicates that he wants me to do the same. My heart starts to pound in my chest.

"What can I do for you?" I ask him, trying not to sound too dismayed.

"I'm here to make amends. I'm still angry over the gun, but we have too much history and I realised earlier today that I can't cut you out of my life. Let's face it: we're both miserable without each other." He calmly says as he stares at me dead in the eye.

I smile. "So, does that mean we're back together? I'll go get the ring!" I say as I get up, but Kyle puts his arm out in front of me and signals a 'no' with his head.

"I'm not ready for that, Cartman. I may never be and I don't want to lead you on if things could go sour." He sternly says.

I feel the tears rise in my eyes again. "You still hate me, don't you? It's OK; I understand." I sadly reply.

"I don't hate you! I'm just mad at you, OK?" He brashly exclaims.

"So why aren't we getting back together?" I demand to know.

"Eric, our relationship was moving way too fast! We never even dated, and we got engaged right off the bat! It was senseless." He says, throwing his arms in the air.

"Love is senseless, Khal! Do you want to know why we didn't need to date prior to getting engaged? We've known each other all our lives: dating is for people that want to get to know each other, not for people like us that know the other like the back of their hand."

"Eric, I'll only be here in South Park for another year and a half. I certainly don't want to break your heart when I finally elope."

"So you'd rather break it now, is that what you're saying? What about us being miserable without each other? Besides, I already told you that I'll follow you anywhere just to be with you."

"You say that now, but will you be able to leave everything and everyone behind, even your mom?"

He just struck a sensitive chord and I can't hold it in anymore. "I probably won't have a mother by the end of this year!" I yell. "And when you'll leave, there will be nothing left for me in this shit hole!" I continue. "I don't understand: we love one another, but you don't want to get back together. I fucked up, Khal. I fucked up royally and I feel terribly stupid for losing a gun; you're absolutely right to think I'm an irresponsible moron, but why can't we give it another shot?" I finally conclude.

"We were moving too fast –"He starts

"We can take it nice and slow, if that's what it takes. We can even go on actual dates if you want." I interject.

"With our personalities, it'll never work in the long run-"

"Nothing is easy in life or in love: you have to work at it."

"I – I – I don't know what else to say."

I Kyle's hands and pull him in closer to me. I lean in and plant a chaste kiss on his lips: they're soft and plump, just the way I remember them. I'm surprised he hasn't pulled away or slapped me yet.

"Just say you'll give me a second chance." I say after pulling away.

Kyle's gorgeous emerald eyes lock with my hazel ones. I notice the familiar rosiness of his cheeks, an attribute I always found adorable on him. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm willing to give it another shot, only this time I want us to take things nice and slow." He finally says.

Upon hearing these words, I feel something I've never felt before. It's hard to describe: it's a mix of happiness, relief, excitement and nostalgia. I promptly burst into laughter and into tears at the same time as I pounce on Kyle and hug him so tightly that I don't think he can breathe at the moment.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You won't regret it, Khal. I love you so much!" I say in hysteria.

"You're chocking me." Kyle painfully mutters.

I release him from my tight grip right away, grab his face with both hands and I start kissing him. I'm thrilled when Kyle starts returning my kisses.

"Please stay the night; we don't need to have sex but I miss holding you and waking up next to you." I implore him.

Kyle smiles upon hearing my request. "Alright, I'll stay."

* * *

Stan and Kenny must think that Kyle and I are lunatics: after avoiding each other for days, we showed up at school laughing together and teasing one another. The morning went by pretty smoothly: just another ordinary day in Park County High School.

I can't wait for the school day to be over because all I want to do is go home and spend time with Kyle. I want to hold him, love him, kiss him and do all sorts of dirty things to him. It's finally last period, and although English literature is a boring subject, it's amongst the classes I prefer since it's the only class I have with Kyle, Stan and Kenny. As usual, I pick the desk right behind Kyle so I can check out his perfect little bubble butt. He knows that I don't pay attention to half the lecture just to stare at his ass, and he finds it a little annoying since he's scared that people will catch on to our little secret. I say half the people in this school are far too oblivious.

My daydream is interrupted suddenly when a horde of armed police officers barge into class and order all of us to get up and put their hands up. Every single student and Mrs Amano, our teacher, promptly comply.

"Which one of you is Eric Theodore Cartman" A police officer, sergeant detective Yates to be more precise, asks the class.

All eyes in the room turn on me and I have a feeling my lost gun just put me in a sea of troubles. The sergeant detective walks up to me while every single officer points their hand guns at me: On a scale from lame to lamer, this is the most horrific experience of my life!

"Eric Theodore Cartman, you are under arrest for the murder of Annabelle Foley have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" the sergeant says as he handcuffs me.

I am truly under shock! I don't resist and keep my mouth shut, of course: why make a shitty situation even worst? This is fucking humiliating: getting arrested for a crime I did not commit, let alone a murder? This is my worst nightmare come true! I look around myself and notice the shocked looks on my classmates' faces, and that's without mentioning Kyle's face: he's so pale, I swear he looks as though he's about to faint. As the officers escort me out of the classroom, one of the students screams out.

"You have the wrong man! He's innocent!" Kyle yells, but none of the officers even acknowledge him.

Times like these I'm happy I don't stash the drugs or the illegal fire arms at home. The police are probably searching it at this very moment.

The police are keeping me in a cell at the local South Park station under the supervision of detective Barbrady: he had gotten a promotion when he was rehired by the local police force. Long story short, he had accidentally shot a kid who happened to be a minority and was fired for it. He later on helped save the town, so to apologize and as an act of good faith, the mayor rehired him and gave him a promotion.

Yates interrogated me for six hours straight. It turns out that my Glock was found by some kindergarteners that were playing near Stark's Pond. They ran some ballistic tests and the markings on the bullet match my gun. I tried telling Yates that the gun was stolen, but he just laughed it off.

"As if no one ever tried that excuse one before. You think I'm stupid?" He simply replied.

In any case, tomorrow I'll be moved to Alamosa: the investigators are convinced that the murder was premeditated and I was told I'd rot in jail until the day I die.

Today is officially the worst day of my life.

* * *

Stay tuned for the next chapter... it'll be about something a lot of you have been waiting for.

Don't forget to review and comment.

Love you all,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	20. Total eclipse of the heart

It's been really quiet at work lately and that makes me very happy: it means I can write as much as I want.

I'm telling you right away, the second part of this chapter was extremely fun to write.

Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review.

* * *

The past two months have been hell: I've never felt as tired and as stressed out. I practically survive on speed and cigarettes by day and ludes and xanax to be able to sleep at night. I have little to no appetite at all and the only reason I eat is because of my diabetes. The day following his arrest, Eric was transferred from the local police station all the way to Alamosa while he waits for his trial. It's hard for me to go visit him since it takes over two hours to get there from South Park. The last time I visited him, which was two weeks ago, he had a black eye and a stitched up cut on his cheek. He had gotten attacked by another inmate for no reason whatsoever. He told me that the medic didn't even freeze him when he gave him stitches. It broke my heart to see him in that state: Eric Cartman, the guy with no fear, the person who always fought back reduced to a broken soul.

I want to prove his innocence, but Cartman absolutely refuses that I go to the police and tell them he was with me while Annie got shot. He doesn't want my cover to be blown for several reasons: that would put me in a sea of trouble, since everyone in town will know about my alter ego. That, and Paolucci's business will be exposed and he would end up in jail. Cartman fears that the mob will come after us if that happens: It's a catch twenty-two. If that wasn't bad enough, I found out yesterday that my father will represent Colorado in the state of Colorado vs. Eric Cartman trial. I was completely devastated when my father announced it to me yesterday during one of our daily check-in phone conversations. My father wants him to be trialed for first degree murder and that means that if Eric is found guilty, he could get a life sentence. He started asking me questions about Eric and I just hung up on him: I'm not going to help my father put an innocent man in jail for the rest of his days.

The reason I pump myself full of drugs is very simple: there are only twenty-four hours in a day, and my days are hectic: I go to school during the week, as usual; I have to study to keep my grades up, but that's the easy part. I still do my shifts as a shot girl at Vatican, but now I also take care of what Eric used to do for Tony. I drive up to Denver to take care of pick-ups every second Saturday. Tony was reluctant at first because he felt uncomfortable with the concept of a girl dealing with thugs, but I managed to convince him. I pick up as Ivy and keep using Kenny, who is still oblivious as to who I really am, to sell on Park County turf. As for the arms, I deliver them as Kyle: it's just safer that way and as far as Paolucci is concerned, it is a cousin of mine that takes care of the deliveries.

Whenever I go to Denver for business, I always take the time to go visit Liane. The poor woman is not doing well: she looks worst and worst every time I see her. I didn't have the courage to let her know about what's going on with her son and I have to keep making excuses to explain why he hasn't visited her in so long. Last time, I told her he was sick with the flu and that he wouldn't have been allowed to enter a cancer treatment center anyway. The disappointment was obvious on her face, but she forced herself to smile at me. If I were to tell her the truth, I am afraid she'd drop dead on the spot due to the shock. I explained the situation to the nurses and the doctor that are treating her and they have agreed to block all news channels from her television.

I started wearing the ring again a few weeks after his arrest; I feel kind of stupid when I think of the break up. I miss him terribly and cry over him every day. I've also been taking care of Mrs Kitty and I practically live at Cartman's place now: most of my stuff is here anyway. I have this ritual where I torture myself everyday: when I get back from school, I go into Eric's room to pick up his pillow and just hold it for a little while. I breathe in whatever little Cartman smell is left on it. I know it's gross, but I haven't washed the bed sheets since his arrest because I don't want to wash his smell off of them.

* * *

"Spit it out Kyle, what the fuck is wrong? You haven't been yourself lately." Stan asks me, concerned.

The two of us are leaving school and we're walking to my car. I took the night off from Vatican since I promised Stan that I'd hang out with him and Kenny tonight. Kenny decided to skip school after lunch since it's the Friday before spring break. I am looking forward to catch up on some sleep next week and not have to rely on drugs to be able to function. Stan and I are heading to my place to chill and Kenny said he'll join us around dinner time.

"It's about Eric. I want to help prove he's innocent, but I don't know how." I sadly reply.

"Dude, come on! The bullets that killed the shot girl were fired from Eric's gun! How can you explain that?"

"How dare you imply he's guilty?" I say furiously

"I'm not implying anything Kyle, I'm just stating facts! Besides, he's going to have a fair trial."

Fair trial, my ass! With the reputation he has, people already judged him guilty. With my father going all out in court, if I can't prove his innocence, Eric is royally screwed!

 _"_ _He's innocent, Stan! We need to get him out of there!"_

 _"_ _Kyle, with all the fucked up things he's done, what makes you so sure?"_

 _"_ _I just know, OK! He could never do that!"_

 _"_ _How can you just know? Dude! He got away with felonies before."_

 _"_ _It couldn't be him."_

 _"_ _What if it was?"_

 _"_ _Stan! He couldn't be at two places at once!"_

 _"_ _Huh?" Stan says as he stops in his tracks._

 _I look at my super best friend. He looks so confused and baffled by my statement that I'm considering something that I may regret later. Stan would never betray me, so I may as well come clean. I think it's time I fully open up to him; I have to feed Mrs Kitty anyway, so we may as well stop at Cartman's on the way to my house._

 _"_ _I think it'll be easier if I show you. We're gonna stop at Cartman's before heading to my place. I have to feed his cat." I say, unlocking my mom's car._

 _"_ _It sounds good." Stan says before getting in the car._

* * *

 _We were greeted by Mrs Kitty upon entering Eric's house. Although she's getting old, she's still absolutely adorable. She immediately rubbed herself against our legs the moment our boots came off and got super excited when she saw me heading towards the kitchen. Once Mrs Kitty was fed, I told Stan I had to show him something. I asked him to wait for me in the living room and to make himself comfortable while he waited. He turned Eric's TV and started watching something while I headed upstairs in Liane's room to grab Ivy's stuff and get ready._

 _I've mastered the art of makeup, so it takes me exactly twenty minutes to get ready instead of forty five minutes like it used to when I first started and it looks twice as nice. My wig is on and I'm wearing one of the black dresses as well as a pair of black stilettos that Eric had bought for me when we went to Denver. All though I cherish the memory of that escapade, my heart sinks every time I dare to think about it. I try as best as I can to shake that memory, otherwise I know damn well I'm just going to start to cry. All I am missing before going to see my super best friend downstairs is to slip on the final touch: my emerald engagement ring._

 _"_ _Did you die up there Kyle? You've been up there for like twenty minutes." Stan shouts from downstairs._

 _"_ _I'm coming now." I shout back, using my normal voice._

 _I look at myself in the mirror one final time and take a deep breath. I feel as though I have to take a massive crap and I'm really nauseous all of a sudden, the same way I felt when I walked over to Vatican the first time. I start making my way towards the stairs, and every step I take, my pulse accelerates. Once in front of the stairs, I look down: my best friend in the world is waiting for me in the living room and he's in for a hell of a surprise. I take a deep breath and go down the first step and notice I'm lightly trembling. I go down the second one and the nausea intensifies. I take another deep breath as I go down the next step and I feel dizzy all of a sudden._

 _"_ _What's taking so long, dude?" Stan shouts, startling the living crap out of me._

 _Before I have time to answer, I see my super best friend walk in front of the staircase. He notices me and raises his eyebrow, looking a little confused. I must look like a deer caught in headlights because I was not expecting Stan to come near the stairs._

 _"_ _Hi Ivy, I didn't know you were here all along. Is Kyle still upstairs?" He asks, not realizing who I am._

 _For a brief moment, I consider playing along, but that would be a dumb and counterproductive idea: he'd start looking for Kyle all over the place. I take a last deep breath and summon all the courage I have in me and finish going down the stairs._

 _"_ _It's me, Stan." I say without the falsetto._

 _"_ _Dude..." he simply says before his jaw drops._

 _Stan slowly brings his hand to his mouth in order to cover it and his eyes are wide open. His face is getting really pale and I'm starting to get freaked out by his reaction. I guess it takes him a while to process everything that this revelation entails. He slowly raises his shaky finger to point at me and although it's not polite to point at some, given the circumstances, I forgive him._

 _"_ _I – You – Ky – vy –"He slurs incoherently right before collapsing on the ground._

 _He either fainted or he had a stroke, but I'm pretty certain he just fainted. I rush to him to make sure he's ok. The first think I do is to grab his feet and lift his legs up in order to send some blood back to his brain. After about a minute, he starts coming back to his senses. I help him getting up and help him back to the couch._

 _"_ _There's a reason I asked you to wait in the living room. I had a feeling you'd react like this." I admit to him as he sits on the couch._

 _I take a seat next to him and he just stares blankly at me for some time, just looking at me from head to toe, completely speechless. I want to give him some time to wrap his head around what he just discovered before telling him the whole story. He eventually took a deep breath and started spewing some silly nonsense._

 _"_ _Kyle, that's a lot to process, so let me see if I got this straight: you're transgendered, you work as a sexy shot girl and you got engaged to Cartman because he discovered your secret and threatened to black mail you if you didn't. In other words, Cartman had you by the balls."_

 _I burst into laughter upon hearing his theory. I have never heard anything more ridiculous in my life, but I can sort of see where Stan is coming from: Cartman did enjoy humiliating and controlling me back when we were kids._

 _"_ _The only thing you got right is the fact that I work as a shot girl." I tell Stan once my laughter subsided._

 _"_ _OK then, please tell me everything. I'm all ears and I promise I won't cut you off."_

 _I proceed to tell everything to Stan: how my father threatened to disown me if I didn't become a lawyer and took over his firm; how I wanted to travel the world and found a job so I could elope after graduating high school; the fact that Cartman and I turned out to have the same employer and that after a few days of me working there, he discovered who I truly was because of the fallen wig incident._

 _"_ _Wait a second... you kissed Cartman willingly?" Stan was as pale as a ghost when he asked me that question._

 _"_ _You can bet your ass I did, Stan. I'm in love with him." I reply as a blush appears on my face._

 _Stan makes a disgusted face. "And how do you know for a fact that he's innocent." He continues._

 _I explain to him that the night he discovered my identity was the night I was assaulted by the creep in the back alley and that he pretty much forced me to go to Denver with him and that he proposed there._

 _"_ _You see Stan, I'm going to spare you the details, but when Annie got murdered, Eric and I were being... intimate in the employee locker room at Vatican." I reply, feeling my face burn up._

 _I had to choose my words carefully: I wasn't going to tell him Cartman was balls deep in my ass and that I was begging him to be as rough as possible._

 _"_ _Oh my God! I just got the mental image of that scene." He says._

 _He's clearly concentrating to suppress a gag. I chuckle at that: My super best friend has always been squeamish._

 _"_ _The reason I can't go to the police, and you have to swear on Wendy's life that you'll keep this information for yourself, is that Eric's been doing a lot of shady work for our boss and that if I speak up, not only will my cover be blown, but Tony could end up in jail. That would mean that Cartman and I would be targeted by the Italian mob."_

 _"_ _That suck, dude..."_

 _"_ _It does."_

 _"_ _But his gun was used to kill the shot girl."_

 _"_ _His gun was stolen, Stan. Eric was framed, but I have no idea who could have done it. He pissed off so many people that I don't even know where to start looking for answers."_

 _Stan nods at that statement._

* * *

 _Although it was a difficult thing to do, I'm glad I told everything to Stan: It feels as though an immense weight was taken off my shoulders. All in all, Stan took the news rather well. He swore not to tell anyone, not even Kenny, and he promised me to give his full cooperation to help me uncover the truth about Annie's murder. He said that for good measure, he'd come to Vatican as often as possible and bring Kenny along with him once in a while: Stan fears for my safety now._

* * *

 _I hope you enjoyed this chapter and laughed as much as I did when Stan sees Ivy/Kyle and faints. I already started to work on the next chapter and it's a Trent POV._

 _Thanks for reading and don't forget to review._

 _Keep being awesome._

 _Love you all,_

 _xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox_


	21. Another one bites the dust

There's a new class of rookies that just graduated and they're getting trained at the office, so I had to prepare a presentation for them and I gave it this morning. Tomorrow, I'm also testing and grading them to see if they fully understand compliance, and I know you don't care, but this is why it took forever to publish this chapter.

Now that Cartman is behind bars and that Scott's revenge is complete, it's time to focus a little more on Trent.

Without further ado, please enjoy and don't forget to review.

* * *

The tension between Scott and I has been palpable as of late. He knows I'm running out of patience for him to keep up his end of the deal. I did what I was told to do in order to put his half brother behind bars, and don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely ecstatic over the fact that one of my vendettas has been successful, but I'm still missing four other targets. Whenever I ask him, he just dismisses me and tells me we'll deal with it at a later date. I will not stand for such bullshit any longer.

"Scott, we need to talk." I say firmly.

Scott was in the middle of playing darts on his special dart board when I approach him to have this conversation.

"Not now Trent, I'm busy meditating." He says, attempting to dismiss me once again.

As I said, I will not tolerate his bullshit any longer. I wait for him to be finished throwing all the darts he has in his hands, then I swiftly get to the dart board, before Scott has time to get up from his armchair, and take the damn thing off the wall. I turn around to face him.

"I will snap your little toy in half if you don't sit the fuck down and listen to what I have to say. Understood?" I spit.

Scott slowly sits back down. In a way, Scott and Cartman have a bunch of common traits: they're both master manipulators, they're both obsessive and they both hate when people touch their little toys.

"What do you want, Trent?" He asks, although he should know better.

"I need your full cooperation to get back to Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick, Kyle Broflovski and Butters Stotch, just like you promised." I demand.

Scott lets out a sigh. "Trent, I don't think it's the right time-"He starts.

"To hell with what you think! It's been two months, Scott! I will not wait any longer!" I brashly reply, cutting him off.

Scott stares at me for a few moments prior to opening his mouth. "Very well; I'll ask Foley to keep an eye on these four guys."

That just put a smile on my face. "Thank you." I tell him before I turn around to put his favorite toy back on the wall where it belongs.

While Scott is on the phone with Foley, I glance over at the television: the news is on and they're talking about Eric Cartman getting his court date six months from now, in October. I burst into laughter when I hear that the lawyer that will represent the State of Colorado will be Gerald Broflovski. I heard that Kyle's dad is a brilliant lawyer and hopefully, he gets Cartman capital punishment, or even a life sentence. I am strongly considering framing the four others simply for the fact that it is a very appropriate way to get back at them.

"Foley said he'll start tonight. Since Broflovski and Stan are practically neighbors, he's going to park his car near the houses and start the stalking process. He said he'll text you if he finds anything major." Scott tells me as he puts his phone away in his pocket.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to still have him around? I mean, after what you and I did to his cousin, it's kind of awkward to have him work with us still."

Scott starts laughing maniacally. "As far as he knows, she was killed by Eric Cartman's hand. Stop worrying so much: he doesn't suspect a thing, nor will he ever find out the truth. It's our little secret." He says as he gives me three encouragement pats on the shoulder, one of his creepy smiles forming on his tired face.

Not worrying is easier said than done: should he discover what really happened to Annie, I fear that he'd go to the authorities and let them know what really went on and should that happen, Scott and I would be in a world of troubles and all this scheming will have been in vain.

"You don't seem too convinced, Trent." Scott adds as he meticulously examines my face.

No shit! If I get convicted for murder, with the criminal record I have, I'd be locked away for a hell of a long time. The worst that could happen to Scott is going back to the mental ward: he has the money to pay a good lawyer and he's got the medical record to convincingly plead insanity. I'm getting the short end of the stick, and Scott doesn't want me to worry... Foley better remain oblivious as to what happened.

"Whatever Scott. I just hope to God you're right." I say as I make my way to the front door: I need some fresh air.

"Where are you off to?" He asks.

I chose to ignore him as I let myself out. Seriously, fuck him.

* * *

I've been wandering outside for a long while now: the sun has set hours ago, but I still have little desire to go back home to Scott. I went around all of South Park, as far off as Mr. Denkin's ranch which is at the other end of town, to try to clear my head. It was really cool to be fed, clothed and sheltered by Scott, but I hate what I've become because of him. For two months now, I've been living with the guilt: if only Annie kept cooperating, I wouldn't have had to kill her. I wouldn't have had to hear Lizzie's desperate voice on the phone when she called me to share the terrible news. I wouldn't have had to see her with a red face, puffy eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her older brother was just as devastated, but he was also livid at me: he yelled at me, accusing me of being a lousy boyfriend to his cousin because I failed to protect her. If he ever discovered it was I who pulled the trigger, I am afraid of what he'd do to me. The day Cartman's arrest was made public and that the news said he's be sent to Alamosa, Foley immediately called me and asked me to have some of my old fellow convicts beat the crap out of him, request that I granted with pleasure: I'll do anything to keep suspicions down.

I just made my way back from the ranch and I've been roaming close to Scott's house, in case I get too cold or too tired and might have to reluctantly go back. I was sitting on one of the benches at Stark's pond when my phone vibrated twice: I got a text from Foley.

 _Marsh is at Vatican. He just bought Ivy a shot and they chatted. She just left his table._

 _ **Excellent! Buy her a shot and ask her some questions about Marsh.**_

 _Understood - I'll keep you posted._

I look up at the stars: I wonder why Marsh went to Vatican tonight. It would be funny if, since Cartman is out of the picture, he's trying to hook up with her. I haven't seen her since the day Annie died, but I clearly remember how Cartman and she were around each other and I highly doubt she'll be interested.

Ever since my release, I never took the time to look up at the stars: they're gorgeous! I decide to lie down on the bench and just gaze at them for a little while. Other than the big and the small dipper, I sadly don't know any constellations and I think I'm due for a trip to the planetarium. After about ten minutes of staring, my phone vibrates again.

 _All I could get out of her is that she claims Cartman is innocent and that Marsh keeps an eye on her because Cartman fears for her life._

 _ **Does that mean he regularly goes to Vatican?**_

 _Maybe. I don't know. I'll come more often and keep you posted. I can't believe she thinks fatso is innocent._

I smirk as I straighten myself up and put my phone away: maybe Scott is right. Maybe, having Foley around isn't such a bad thing. Maybe Foley is too inattentive to figure it out. My thoughts are interrupted the crunching sound of snow being stepped on. I look around myself to find the source of that sound and notice the silhouette of someone jogging on the trail behind my bench. Call me old fashioned, but I don't understand why someone would decide to go for a jog at midnight, let alone on a Saturday night; it takes all kinds, I guess. As the jogger comes closer, I start recognizing him: this is a gift from the Gods! I turn around and he jogs right past the bench, completely oblivious of my presence and gaze. I also notice that he's wearing headphones. Poor idiotic fool! I start to gently chuckle as I pick up the biggest rock I can find. I start following my unsuspecting target and get close to him; he still doesn't notice me. With one swift hit, the rock connects with the back of his skull and young man stumbles back. With a punch across the face, the blond collapses on the cold snowy ground, completely unconscious. I laugh out of satisfaction. I pick up my prey, wrap his arm around my shoulder and start dragging him to Scott's house; there will be much fun to be had tonight.

* * *

"What the hell is your problem, Boyett? Are you stupid?" Scott shouts at me.

"I wasn't going to let such a good opportunity pass me by without grabbing it." I reply with a smirk on my face, genuinely giving zero fucks about what Scott has to say.

"Haven't you ever heard the expression _don't shit where you eat_?" He screeches.

I laugh my ass off at that statement. "You didn't seem to care much about it when you raped Annie. Don't you dare lecture me, you fucking hypocrite." I unscrupulously reply.

Scott's face turns a deep shade of red. "You are under my roof, Boyett. Don't you dare cross me, or else-"He starts.

"Or else what? Don't forget that I'm the reason your half brother is in jail... wouldn't it suck if I felt really horrible about what I've done and went to the police to confess? You owe me, you ungrateful brat!" I spit.

Scott lets out a sigh in frustration. "My I ask what you are planning to do with this guy. Are you going to kill him?" He asks, defeated.

"I'll kill him eventually, but first, I want to have some fun." I say as a smirk forms on my face.

My victim starts whimpering and mumbling: he's coming back to his senses. I grab the little shit and promptly drag him to the basement. He tries to resist, but is too weak to successfully do so. I place him on Scott's woodworking table, making sure to slam his head on it to insure that he'll be incapacitated as I bind him to it. Once my prey is well restrained, I start looking through Scott's tool box and smile when I find exactly what I was looking for: a pair of diagonal cutters. Scott is coming down the stairs when I pull the tool out of the box. His face starts getting a little pale when he sees the cutters in my hands.

"You're not seriously going to do that, are you?" He asks, incredulous.

"You can bet your ass I'm doing that! It's not like he's going to need these digits ever again: I'm planning to let him bleed out, and if that's not enough, he will slowly die of infection. Whatever I do, I will not interfere with nature though." I say before chuckling.

"I wish we kept the Glock a little longer: imagine if we shot this idiot, left his body somewhere and then disposed of the gun? Cartman would be trialed for two murders." Scott says, clearly obsessed by his half brother.

I turn towards my captive guest: his blue eyes are wide opened and his entire body is shaking.

"Look at who woke up! Do you remember me, you little bitch?" I ask him as I get closer to him and play with the cutters.

The foolish boy nods negatively; that pisses the fuck out of me!

"You are one of the reasons an innocent was sent to jail, many years ago. You robbed him of his childhood, and now he wants revenge. Do you remember me?" I calmly say, my face mere inches from his.

The boy gasped and his jaw dropped: I think I cured his amnesia. He screams and starts to struggle, trying in vain to free himself.

"Trent Boyett! Oh my God! Oh! Sweet Jesus!" He whimpers.

"Thank you very much for having the decency to remember me, you little dip shit!" I say as I start taking his shoes off.

"What are you doing? Please, I beg you: don't hurt me! I was a child! I didn't know any better! Please, let me go!" My victim starts begging.

"You're right: you were nothing but a mere child then, but I look at you now and you look older and wiser. You could have gone to the authorities any time to say I was innocent, but you chose to keep your mouth shut. It's payback time, you little shit!" I say hatefully.

Scott is leaning against the wall: I notice he's clearly pitching a tent. I don't know what it is with that guy and violence, but he gets turned on every time blood or torture is involved. I do it strictly for revenge and honestly, I feel a little squeamish at what I'm about to do.

Despite my victim's please, I put his right pinky toe between the blades of the cutter and snap it off with a quick click: the blond boy screams is lungs out while Scott puts a hand down his pants and begins to pleasure himself.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Scott? Really? Can you please not do this now?" I exclaim as I feel both disgusted and disturbed by my partner's action.

"Trent, keep doing what you're doing. Stop ruining this for me!" He replies, clearly aggravated by my words.

He just keeps jerking it like the fucking weirdo he is: I guess I'll have to make due... I take the toe and place it on a small counter behind myself while blood is gushing from where I amputated the blond boy. The blood starts streaming in between the cracks of the table and along its legs right onto the floor, forming a little puddle underneath it. The boy's breathing is erratic, and I have to summon all my courage to grab his right hand and place the pliers around his pinky. After a quick snip, the boy screams once more, my partner in crime grunts out of pleasure and I focus all of my might to suppress a gag. The digit falls to the ground as more blood starts streaming from where it was once attached.

"Please, stop! I'm begging you! I'm so sorry for what I did in the past! I'd do anything to undo it!" The blond boy begs as I bend to pick up the freshly amputated pinky.

"Too little too late, don't you think" I brashly say as I get back up.

Picking up the pliers one last time, I go to his other hand and place the blades around the pinky while Scott walks to the other side of my prey and pulls his dick out of his pants: I swear to God, this guy makes me sick to my stomach sometimes. As I snip the boy's finger, he desperately screams again and Scott ejaculates all over his face, trying to aim as much semen as possible in the blond boy's mouth. I have tried to resist gagging, but this was way too much for me to handle: I put the last digit next to the others and run to the bathroom. I make it there just in time before the contents of my stomach come back up in a potent jet. Leave it to Scott Tenorman to take a gruesome situation and make it a million times worst. I struggle to get back up and immediately brush my teeth to remove the unpalatable taste of acid from my mouth. As for the boy, I hope for him he'll bleed to death.

Now that the horrible deed has been done, it's time for me to text Foley.

* * *

Two down, three to go. Also, Scott is a raging psychopath, but we already knew that. Stay tuned for the next chapter: trust me; major events are to take place.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

Don't forget to review.

Love you all,

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


	22. Run or Hide

Hi everyone and sorry for the delay: my boss is leaving on vacation soon and she's showing all sorts of shit that I'll have to do in her absence.

Without further ado, please enjoy the chapter.

Reviews are always welcome.

* * *

To think I believed that I would be able to sleep in and get some rest during spring break. I was planning to sleep until noon today, but I had no such luck; at least I got to sleep until ten before getting the rudest awakening I ever got in my life. I was not prepared for the things I was going to hear, let alone what I was going to receive and now I feel even more uneasy than before. I barely feel safe in my own house anymore. Stan, Kenny and I have to stick together as much as possible: someone out there wants to hurt us, or wants us dead for some reason that I've yet to grasp. Today was an avalanche of bad news, one more terrible than the other and the three of us have no one to turn to, especially not the police, not for the time being at least. I miss the days when we could always count on Chef to give us some of his precious advice: It would be much appreciated and needed right now. The three of us are in Stan's car making our way to Alamosa. Kenny fell asleep in the back and is gently snoring with Bebe's Boobs curled up on his lap while I'm trembling like a leaf in the passenger seat, in full Ivy makeup that was ruined by my streaming tears. Stan's face is consumed by worry and stress; not many words have been exchanged between us in the hour since we left South Park. I really hope my plan works; I need to see him at all cost. If he ends dying without me being by his side, I'll never forgive myself. _Take deep breaths, you can do it!_

* * *

After my shift at Vatican last night, I decided to go sleep at my own house since I won't be working until Wednesday anyway. I still passed by Cartman's place to shower and change before heading to my house and slipping into my much needed bed. The prospect of sleeping is magnificent: It's getting more and more difficult to function on such little sleep.

 _Ding! Dong!_

I wake up to the sound of the doorbell. I glance at the time and it's ten o'clock: who the fuck could it be? I'm pretty sure it's Stan and that he just wants to hang out, but now that he knows my secret and he knows my schedule, he should really know better than to wake me up at this time on a day off. I struggle to get out of bed and drag my exhausted self down the stairs and finally groggily open the door. To my surprise, it's not Stan standing on my porch; it's the Stotches. The both look dismayed and Linda looks as exhausted as I feel. You can tell that the two of them have been crying a lot.

"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Stotch." I tell them, feeling a little uneasy.

"Good morning Kyle. We're sorry to disturb you, but we were wondering if you've seen Butters anywhere…" Mrs. Stotch asks.

"Last time I saw him was at school on Friday afternoon." I reply. "What happened?" I can't help but ask.

"Butters went for a jog Saturday night and didn't come back. We figured that he had decided to sleep over at a friend's house without letting us know. We were going to ground him upon his return, but when he didn't come back last night, we started to get worried." Mr. Stotch says with despair in his voice.

This is very odd: Butters would never dare to defy his parents by not letting them know his whereabouts. Out of all of us, he's the most obedient one. Did he run away from home?

"Have you tried calling his cell phone?" I ask, trying my best to be helpful.

"We did several times. Yesterday, it would ring but when we tried again this morning, it just went straight to voicemail." Mrs. Stotch replies prior to bursting into tears.

Mr. Stotch puts his hand on his wife's shoulder, obviously trying his best to comfort her despite his own pain: his eyes are watering up.

"Well, thank you for your time Kyle. Please let us know if you hear anything from him." Mr Stotch says as he and his wife take their leave, most likely to go knock on a few more doors.

That was a truly heartbreaking sight: I hope Butters is OK. As I turn around to go back inside, I notice an envelope sticking out of my mailbox, which is very odd because the mail usually arrives in the afternoon. The mailman must be on vacation and whoever replaces him must have taken a different route. I take the envelope and notice that not only is it addressed to me, but it has no stamp on it and there's some kind of small object inside it because it's not flat, so it can't be only paper. Intrigued, I leave my porch and make my way to the living room where I open the mysterious envelope. Upon seeing its content, my blood freezes in my veins and I immediately run to my room to fetch my phone and call Stan. My heart pounds in my chest as I dial his phone number. _Come on… Pick up already!_

"Oh my God Kyle, I was just about to call you?" he says, clearly agitated

"Stan, can you come over please? I'm freaking out." I ask with a trembling voice.

"I'm freaking out too, dude! I just got a finger in the mail with the creepiest note ever."

"I just saw the toe and dropped the whole thing on the ground."

"Hold on, I have Kenny on the other line." He says prior to putting me on hold.

While I wait for my super best friend to get back on the line, I run back downstairs to make sure that the door is locked, which it thankfully is. I peek out the window, through the curtains to see if there's anything shady outside: I see the familiar faces of my neighbors, but I notice a silver Honda Civic parked on the other side of the street which I never noticed before.

"Kyle, you'll never believe it: Kenny also got a finger with the same note as me. He's freaking out, dude!" He says his voice more panicked than before.

"What did the note say?" I ask as my body quivers.

"It's says 'You're no longer safe.'"

That's when it clicks. "Have the Stotches come to ask you about Butters?" I ask.

"No, why would the Stotches want to talk to me? Is Butters in trouble or something?"

"I'm starting to believe he is: his parents told me that he's been missing since Saturday."

"Are you serious? Kyle, I'm going to go pick up Kenny and come to your place. Please don't leave your house by yourself."

"Perfect, see you in a bit." Is the last thing I say before hanging up.

Stan and Kenny should be here in about fifteen minutes, and I honestly can't wait until they arrive. I run upstairs and change into a pair of black jeans and my Batman t-shirt before my friends arrive to be somewhat presentable. I also summon all my courage to pick up the envelope and pull out the note. I have a feeling this toe and the fingers Stan and Kenny received belong to Butters. It would only make sense, to whom else could the digits belong to otherwise? As I'm trying to find some sense, some logical explanation to this madness, I hear the sound of an engine being turned on. I run to the window, and see the strange silver Civic leave. The driver looks strikingly familiar: it's hard to see from here, but he really looks like the oldest of the Foley siblings. As the silver car leaves, I see Stan's car pulling in my driveway. I run to the door and let my friends in: the two of them look just as terrified as me. Kenny brought Bebe's Boobs because he doesn't want someone to hurt her.

"Sorry it took longer than expected: The Stotches were at Kenny's house when I got there." Stan states.

"Did you guys tell them about the fingers and the toe we received? I'm starting to think that the toe and fingers belong to Butters." I ask.

"Of course, they belong to Butters! He's the only person I know that bites his nails and the fingers Stan and I got clearly belong to someone who bites their nails! And to answer your question, we didn't say anything to them yet." Kenny exclaims with tears forming in his eyes.

"Yeah, I wanted to call the police but Kenny doesn't think it's a good idea." Stan adds.

"I agree with Kenny: it's a terrible idea! The cops are fucking useless and won't help us. If anything, they'll put me and Kenny in jail." I quickly respond, without thinking.

Kenny looks at me with a raised eyebrow while Stan just nods. I think it's time for me to come clean with him too: the situation is too dire too keep up the charade and right now, our three lives might be at risk. Kenny is a trustworthy guy anyway, so I doubt he'll spill the beans.

"Other than the letter, did you guys notice anything sketchy around your houses? Before you guys got here, there was a silver Honda Civic parked in front of my house with someone in it and that person left the second Stan pulled up in the driveway. The driver looked like the oldest Foley sibling and oddly enough, he was at Vatican Saturday and Sunday night." I add.

"What's your point? Lots of people go to Vatican, dude. Kenny and I were there last night ourselves." Stan interjects.

"Yeah, but the Foley kid bought me shots Saturday and yesterday and he asked me a bunch of questions about you guys, and then next thing I know, Butters goes missing and we get his digits in the mail!"

"You think Foley did it?" Stan asks.

"I don't know to be honest. "

"Hold your fucking horses, you two! What the fuck are you talking about, Kyle? You weren't at Vatican last night." Kenny interrupts with the look of bewilderment plastered all over his face.

Stan and I look at each other. "It's time. Stan, let's all go to Cartman's: a picture is worth a thousand words after all."

Stan nods at my statement. "Alright guys, let's go."

"Why are we going to Cartman's?" Kenny asks.

"You'll find out soon enough." I simply reply.

* * *

"Dude, you may want to sit down for this." Stan tell Kenny as I make my way downstairs with my make up done and my wig.

I enter the living room where Stan and Kenny are sitting down. Upon seeing me, Kenny looks at me, completely bewildered. "It's me, Kenny. I was Ivy all along." I say in my normal voice and Kenny's eyes immediately become as wide as saucers.

"No fucking way!" is what Kenny says as he takes hold of his head with both hands.

He just stares at me quietly, probably trying to process what he just discovered. Bebe's Boobs, most likely sensing his distress, climbs up his shoulder and hugs his head. I take a deep breath, and proceed to tell him everything, as I had done with Stan a few days prior. Kenny finds out about the life plan my father designed for me and how I needed money to elope right after graduation; he learns about the wig incident and the subsequent trip to Denver as well as Eric's proposal. Finally, I tell him about how Eric was framed.

"There, now you're up to date." Stan cheerfully says once I'm finished my story, patting Kenny on the shoulder.

Kenny suddenly snaps out of it, startling Bebe's Boobs who lets out a cry out of indignation, and looks me in the eye.

"I can't believe I jacked off to you so many times! Every time you'd bring me the merchandise, I'd go home with a raging boner and picture you naked. Fuck, I feel stupid!" He admits, bewildered.

Stan and I look at each other and burst into laughter. As fucked up as this day has been so far, this was much needed comic relief. At least Kenny is a good sport about it and joins in.

"I can't believe you finally let Cartman fuck you! I always had a feeling about the two of you!" He adds, giggling.

"What is that supposed to me?" I ask, shocked by Kenny's statement.

"With so much pent up tension between the two of you, the sex must have been great." Kenny explains with a little wink.

What a douche bag! Now, Stan just can't stop laughing and I just can't stop blushing, but it's time to get back to serious issues. I wait until their laughter subsides before I tell the guys that I have a feeling that Butters' disappearance and Cartman's framing are related: that would explain the creepy notes we received along with the fingers and the toe.

"And then, there's the Foley kid: why would he buy me shots just to ask questions about the two of you, and then park his car across from my house and leaves immediately upon seeing you guys? I have a feeling he may be involved."

"It's funny that you speak of him because quite frankly, I didn't even notice him the past two nights." Stan admits.

"I didn't pay attention to him either." Kenny adds.

"Honestly, I think he keeps his distance from you guys so that you don't suspect a thing, whereas with me, Ivy to be more precise, he doesn't have to since he has no idea who I really am."

"We should totally 'intercept' him and ask him a few questions." Kenny suggests.

"Yeah, but since he's been keeping a low profile around us, wouldn't he just bail the second he sees us going his way?" Stan brings up.

"True, but he doesn't seem to care if Ivy is around him." Kenny says with a smirk.

Our conversation is abruptly interrupted when Cartman's land line starts to ring. Curious, I go check the caller ID to see who it is, just in case it's _Anschutz calling regarding Eric's mom. To my surprise, it's Alamosa which is pretty odd: Eric normally calls me on my cell, and it's been on me since I woke up. Why would he call his house anyway?_

 _"_ _Hello?" I say in my normal voice._

 _"_ _Good day. This is Nick Sandow, chief warden from the Alamosa County Jail. May I please speak to Ms. Cartman?"_

 _"_ _May I ask what it's regarding?" I ask as a feeling of unease settles in my stomach._

"It's regarding her son, Eric Cartman." Yeah, no shit it's about Eric.

Figuring he won't tell me anything since I'm not a family member, I decide to play his little game.

"Just a moment please." I say in my normal voice prior to shouting _Mrs Cartman, you have a call_ across the room _._ From the look on their faces, Stan and Kenny are wondering what the fuck is going on.

"Hello? Liane Cartman speaking." I continue this time using my falsetto.

"Ms Cartman, this is _Nick Sandow, chief warden from the Alamosa County Jail. A_ re you sitting down? If you're not, I suggest you do so." Mr. Sandow continues.

"What's going on?" I ask with a suddenly quivering falsetto.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but your son was stabbed several times this morning and was found unconscious in the showers. We have immediately rushed him to San Luis Valley Hospital."

Upon hearing these words, my blood freezes and my ears start ringing. Eric, my sweet Eric, was stabbed. Tears start streaming down my face and I just gasp, incapable of saying a single word.

"Hello? Ma'am? Are you still there? Hello?"

"Yes." I manage whimper with much effort. "Is he going to be OK? Can I go visit him?"

"The doctors have been instructed to call us as soon as he regains consciousness and of course you may go visit him. You, along with any immediate family members are allowed to see him. As for his condition, that is a question that will be better answered by the doctor. Once again, I'm sorry."

"Do you have any idea who did it, and why?" I ask weeping.

"We don't know yet, but I assure you that an investigation has been ordered. I wish you and your son good luck ma'am. Goodbye now."

I scream at the top of my lungs the moment the warden hangs up. I scream out of rage and desperation. I scream out of pain and anguish and I cry, no I wail, to the point of chocking and hiccupping uncontrollably. Stan and Kenny try their best to comfort, and I can tell that they want to know what the phone call was all about, but I'm just not capable of speaking anymore. All I want to do it to curl up on the floor and die. Stan and Kenny take turns hugging me, heck even Bebe's Boobs, who was initially scared shitless when I started screaming, is caressing my face. Oddly enough, the monkey is doing the best job at soothing me. It takes me a while before I am capable of saying anything.

"Eric was stabbed and was found unconscious earlier. He hasn't woken up yet." I am finally able to tell my friends.

"Holy shit Kyle, I'm so sorry." Kenny says.

"Ivy. When she's dressed up as Ivy, you must always refer to her as Ivy, or you'll eventually blow her cover." Stan quickly interjected.

"It's OK Stan-"

"No! It's not OK. We're in enough danger as it is." Stan interrupts. He has a good point.

I want to go see him so badly; I want to be by his side when he wakes up but I have a feeling that they won't let me: I'm not directly related to him, nor are we married. Even if I tell them that Eric and I are engaged, it probably won't be enough because legally speaking, we're nothing to each other. _The fake ID._ That's it! It says Ivy Cartman; I could pass for his sister, or his wife. I run upstairs to grab the purse Eric bought me in Denver and I stuff fifteen hundred dollars into it: he may not necessarily wake up today, so may need to get a room. If they allow me to see him, I won't leave that town until he wakes up.

"I'm going to Alamosa. I need to be there for him." I declare as I run down the stairs.

"Are you crazy? First, Cartman gets framed, then Butters vanishes and we receive his digits in the mail, Cartman gets stabbed in jail and you want to go to Alamosa by yourself? I won't allow it." Stan firmly responds.

"I'll go as Ivy. I have a fake ID where my name appears as Ivy Cartman; hopefully, they'll buy it. I won't come back until he regains consciousness and is out of danger no matter what you say." I rebuke.

"How about the three of us go? Kyle – No, Ivy... Sorry – needs to be with Cartman right now and the three of us need to stick together. Besides, it's spring break!" Kenny suggests.

"It sounds good to me. I agree that the three of us should stick together as much as possible, at least until we figure out who's fucking with us." I say.

"OK, fine. I wouldn't trust you to drive, not in the state you're in anyways." Stan finally concedes.

"Alright Stan the man, we should go grab a few clothes at home and tell our parents that the three of us are taking a road trip." Kenny suggests.

"I have clothes upstairs, so I can pack my stuff here while you guys go get your stuff. Heck, I even have some insulin in the fridge."

"Oh, no way in hell you're staying here alone." Stan exclaims.

"I'm Ivy right now, remember?"

Stan lets out a deep sigh. "Fine. We'll call you when we're on our way."

* * *

My plan worked: I claimed to be his sister and the hospital's security guard allowed me to go right in and see Eric. All I had to do was fill out and sign a form. He took a look at my ID and seemed satisfied. I was also able to speak with the doctor that is taking care of him and I asked him how bad his condition is and it turns out Eric was quite lucky in his misfortune. He was stabbed seven times in the back, and one of the stab wounds happened to be exactly where his missing kidney, which is now inside my body, was supposed to be. Therefore, no major organ was hit and the reason he's still unconscious is due to the fact that he lost a lot of blood. The doctor informed me that his white blood cell count as well as his hemoglobin is abnormally low, but he's being treated for it and he said he was given a blood transfusion. He added that they will take more readings tomorrow and that he may have to get another transfusion. What a relief: my fiancé's life is in no danger, unless he develops an infection, but I was told that it's highly unlikely.

I stayed by his side until nine o'clock when the security guard came to tell me that visiting hours were done and that I had to leave. I would have stayed, but in order to stay with patients outside of visiting hours, you need to get a special permission from either the head nurse or the doctor. I was told I could come back at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Stan already told me that there's no way he was going to get up that early in the day after the shitty day we had. While I was by Cartman's side, trying to appease my nerves by reading the Great Gatsby, Stan and Kenny got us a room at close by motel. The room really sucks: it consists of two queen size beds adorned with outdated quilts, an old school television, a coffee machine and the most derelict furniture you can find anywhere. I'd be scared to go through it with a black light: God know how much bodily fluids have been spilled all over that place.

While I head to the washroom to take a shower, Stan orders us some pizza and Kenny watches television in bed with Bebe's Boobs fast asleep in his arms. The three of us are exhausted, worried and scared shitless. Stan and Kenny are famished, but just the thought of eating makes me nauseous. While I meticulously remove my make up, I start to wonder who would put all of us through this, and perhaps more importantly, why are we being put through this. As for the Foley kid, I found out that he is Annie's cousin at her funeral, and if he's involved in all of this, why go after Stan, Kenny and me, but not Ivy? I know he is convinced that Eric shot and killed his cousin, and if it's revenge he's after, the logical scapegoat would be Ivy. This whole mess makes no sense whatsoever, but I swear to God that I will get to the bottom of it.

"Dude, have some pizza: it's actually pretty good." Stan says to me when he sees me come out of the washroom, rocking my Terrance and Philip PJs.

"No thanks, I'm really not hungry." I reply. "I just want to sleep a bit." I continue while I pull some xanax out of my bag and promptly swallow the pink pill.

"Kyle, you have to at least have a slice; you need to take your insulin and you can sleep after." My super best friend says super sternly.

I sigh loudly and grab the smallest slice from the box: I fucking hate having diabetes. Stan hands me a paper plate and I sit at the edge of the bed where I start chewing on the greasy slice of doughy cheesiness. I have to suppress the urge to hurl every time I swallow a bite: don't get me wrong, the pizza tastes fine. It's my nerves that are the problem; how much more will I be able to bend before I break? Stan watches me like a hawk and although it's starting to get a little annoying for me, I can't help but find his behaviour absolutely endearing. It reminds me of how Cartman would watch over me and completely obsess about my safety. Kenny is absentmindedly staring at the television while gently rubbing his monkey's cheek. I finally finish munching on my pizza slice and promptly throw the plate out before I take my insulin and crawl under the blankets. I'll be sharing the bed with my super best friend while Kenny will share his with Bebe's Boobs. It takes very little time before the world goes black.

* * *

Yep, a lot of shit went down. Stay tuned for the next chapter: I started writing it and quite frankly you're getting a real treat!

Don't forget to review and as always, keep being awesome!

I love you all!

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


	23. Ironic

Hi everyone,

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Don't forget to review!

* * *

Stan dropped me off at the hospital around ten o'clock this morning. About an hour after my arrival, the doctor came in Eric's room to check on his patient. He informs me that Eric's hemoglobin and white blood cells are on the rise, and that's very good news. I asked him how long it would take him to make a full recovery and how long he'd have to stay at the hospital for. He casually replied that a full recovery could take a month, perhaps even longer, but that he'll probably be well enough to leave the hospital by the end of the week unless he develops an infection. It scares the living hell out of me to know that he's going to be sent back to that stupid prison and that he might get attacked again, especially since he's already wounded. I finished reading the Great Gatsby, so I've been spending my time looking at my fiancé and studying his features: his square jaw; his broad forehead; his adorable button nose. I am in aw over how beautiful he looks, even despite the new scar adorning his cheek and the fact that he's unconscious laying in a hospital bed. All of a sudden, I see him shifting in his bed and opening his eyes: he's awake at last. Eric starts getting agitated and tries to get out of bed and starts to whimper when he notices that he's unable to move: they bound him to the bed as a precaution.

"Shhh... It's OK Eric. It's all over now." I tenderly say as tears of joy start to stream down my cheeks and Eric turns his head to me.

The worry and agitation on his face turn into relief the moment he realises that it's me.

"Ivy... where am I? What happened? Why am I in such pain?" He whimpers.

"You don't remember anything?" I ask. He nods negatively. "You were stabbed seven times and the guards found you unconscious in the showers yesterday. They called your house and I happened to be there with Stan and Kenny. We packed some clothes and got a shitty motel room close to here. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was taking a shower; we must have been maybe ten guys, then the place got really quiet and everyone left. Next thing I knew, I woke up here." He says.

"Eric, someone is after us. Butters has been missing since Saturday night and Stan, Kenny and I all received fingers and a toe in the mail with a note saying that we are no longer safe." I start as a look of panic takes over Eric's face. "I had to come clean with Stan and Kenny: they know who I am and they know about us." I continue, feeling the blush rise in my cheeks while Eric's eyes widen up. "I'm starting to think that everything is linked: Annie's murder and you getting framed for it; Butters' disappearance; the digits and the threats; your attack... I'll get to the bottom of this." I finish.

"No! Ivy, just take the money and flee as far away as possible! You've been threatened! It's too dangerous and we don't even know who we're dealing with." Eric says in an agitated voice.

"I won't leave you behind. The guys and I will come up with something and we'll get you out of here. I'll prove your innocence once and for all." I say firmly.

Before Eric has a chance to object, the doctor walks in the room and asks me to leave so that he may examine my fiancé. He informs me that by law, he has to contact the chief warden to tell him that a detainee that was harmed has woken up because he needs to be interrogated.

"If I were you, I'd come back after dinner time or tomorrow morning. I am not discharging him until Friday, at the very least." The doctor advises.

I very gently hug Eric, being extra careful not to hurt him and I plant a small peck of his scarred cheek before making my way out of the room. I glance one more time at my fiancé and bid him goodbye before exiting the room.

* * *

Stan and Kenny picked me up shortly after the doctor booted me out of Eric's room. We're back in our crumby hotel room and the atmosphere is miserable, but at least Eric is awake. The guys convinced me to stay in for the rest of the day and to try to relax, so I took a shower and became Kyle again. We decided to stay another night and to only leave tomorrow in the afternoon so that I can visit Eric one more time. Tomorrow, I have to be back home since I have a shift at Vatican; Stan and Kenny already said that they'll stay at Vatican for the duration of my shift. We try to come up with ways of cornering Foley so that we can ask them some questions and we've been brainstorming since we got back.

"How about we corner him while he's in his car: the three of us could come from different directions so he won't have a choice but to come out of his Civic and talk to us?" Stan suggests.

"I don't think it's a good idea: if he's crazy enough to cut off fingers and send them to people, I don't think he'd hesitate to run us over." I reply.

Suddenly, Kenny jumps up from the bed he's sitting on, all starry eyed.

"Guys, I think I know how we can get the Foley kid to talk." He says as a smile draws itself on his face.

"What's your idea?" I ask clearly intrigued.

"GHB: Gamma-Hydroxybutyric." He says as he gets almost euphoric.

"Why would we give him date rape?" I ask being a little intrigued.

"Dude! What the fuck Kenny? Why would we want to rape him?" Stan asks with a horrified look on his face.

Kenny bursts into laughter at Stan's questions. "No, you dumb ass: we're not going to rape him. That would be fucking gross, dude! The point is to get him incapacitated and then we ask him all the questions in the world when he regains semi-consciousness." Kenny explains with a smirk on his face.

"That's actually a good idea." I say after giving it some thought.

"There's only one problem though: how to we give it to him?" Stan asks.

Kenny snickers. "Well, he buys shots from Ivy, doesn't he?"

Stan and I look at Kenny with a grin slowly forming on our faces.

"That's a great idea! I could take my time and stay with him until he starts being really out of it, and then you guys could carry him out and claim to drive him home. You could blindfold him and take him to Cartman's house where we will tie him to Liane's Bed." I say, picturing the master plan.

"When he wakes up, he'll be all sluggish and will most likely answer all of our questions truthfully. Once we have our info, we drug him again and take him to his car: he'll wake up and remember nothing. He'll probably assume he drank too much and we'll get the answers that we so desperately need." Stan finishes, a glimmer of pride sparkling in his icy blue eyes.

"Let's do it, you guys! This is an excellent plan." I practically screech.

All of a sudden, my stomach growls and I realise that I feel legitimately hungry for the first time in two months. The atmosphere doesn't feel so gloomy and heavy anymore: the three of us are smiling and even Bebe's Boobs seem to be enjoying this sudden change of ambiance: she's hugging her master's leg while letting out little squeals of happiness.

"Do you guys want to order anything to eat? I'm famished!" I finally suggest.

Upon those words, Stan turns his head to me and let go of a breath of relief: he's been really worried by my recent lack of appetite and the effect it has on my body because of the diabetes.

"What do you guys feel like eating?" He asks as he picks up some random menus that we found in the room.

We end up ordering Mexican food since we already had pizza the night before and unlike yesterday where eating a tiny slice of pizza was a challenge and a half, I avidly devour my burrito and all the trimmings that came with it. In hindsight, I shouldn't have eaten so much since my metabolism is no longer used to meals of this size. Feeling all groggy from my gluttony, I go and lie down on the bed that Stan and I are sharing and the world slowly goes dark.

* * *

Before we left Alamosa, I went to visit Cartman this morning, wanting to tell him about our suspicion of the oldest Foley Kid being involved in this whole mess, but there was a police officer in the room and therefore couldn't say a word about the plan. Apparently, since Cartman is now conscious, he has to be under constant surveillance. So Eric and I spoke of things that would not raise suspicions: He told me that the chief warden came in yesterday and asked him a bunch of questions regarding his attack, or if he has any problem with other detainees since this is the second time he gets attacked. Eric answered truthfully: he has no friends or allies in the prison and that most detainees spend their time glaring at him because they think he savagely executed a good looking young woman. He said that one guy in particular hates his guts, but he doesn't understand why: when Eric was briefly detained in juvie for a hate-crime on Token, which he was quickly pardoned for because the whole judgement was stupid, this guy nicknamed Romper Stomper was his friend and cellmate. I knew Eric was having a rough time in jail, but I didn't know it was so bad. When he saw me starting to cry, he said not to worry: that all though it sucked, he would be kept in solitary confinement by means of prevention while the investigation for his stabbing takes place. Upon our return to South Park, I called the Stotches and unsurprisingly, Butters is still missing and hasn't given any sign of life. I hope to God he's still alive. Our plan cannot fail, not with this much at stake.

So here I am at Vatican: My shift just started. The guys are at their usual table and I'm walking around with some GHB in hidden in the pendant I'm wearing while I sell shots of scotch and vodka. The pendant is shaped like a crystal, but it's hallow inside and the top, which looks like spun up black leather rope, can be opened and closed. It holds very little liquid, about ten drops, but it's enough to incapacitate him for a few hours so that we have ample time to take him to Cartman's and tie him up to Liane's bed before he comes back to his senses. I hope for him that he talks because I can't take this whole shitty situation anymore.

Like clockwork, Foley walks into the place at midnight and immediately glances towards Stan and Kenny. As he sits down, I notice he pulls out his phone and starts texting someone, which makes me think that while he'll be unconscious, we should go through his phone and see if there's anything relevant in it. I discretely make eye contact with Stan and he nods before signalling me with his hand to go to his table. I duly comply and start making my way over, my heels clicking loudly against the floor and follow the usual script once I get there.

"Hi Stan and Kenny, how are you two gentlemen doing tonight? Would like to buy some scotch or some vodka?" I ask them, acting as usual.

"We'll have three shots of scotch please: one for Kenny, one for me and obviously one for you, my dear Ivy." Stan orders, sounding almost flirty.

Once all the drinks are poured, I sit with my friends and go over the plan. I tell my friends that I spoke to Mike and that he's aware of what's going to happen, so not to worry about him and to just play along once he'll make his entrance. I take my sweet time drinking my scotch, as I usually do, so that nothing seems out of the ordinary. Stan and Kenny finish their drink, and that's my cue to down what's rest of mine. Right after my last gulp, I get up and place the dirty glasses on my tray and I go back to the behind bar to place them in the dishwasher.

I serve a few more tables before the oldest Foley brother waves me down. My heart starts pounding in my chest as I walk over to his table, only this time I make sure that I face Stan and Kenny. I make eye contact with Stan and he slightly nods, indicating that it's almost time for him and Kenny to go through with the diversion.

"Good evening sir, would you like some scotch or some vodka tonight?" I politely ask the ginger boy.

"I'll have two scotches and so will you." He says as he reaches for bills in his wallet.

I take the money and give him back his change when there's a loud crashing noise, complete with the sound of glass shattering. Stan swiftly swept his arm over the table he's sitting at, knocking every single glass that was on it. Now, Kenny and Stan are yelling in each other's face. As we predicted, the ginger youth immediately turns around to see what the fuss is all about and I take the opportunity to grab the glass closest to him and promptly pour le clear drug from my pendant into it. It isn't long before Ashley, who is completely unaware of the plan, runs out to get Mike. After a few moments, Mike comes in and starts scolding my friends. Everyone can hear that they're told to either leave, or calm down and pick up the broken glass pieces that are all over the floor. Stan and Kenny immediately apologize publicly for the scene and Lola brings them a broom so that they can clean up. The diversion worked perfectly. When the Foley boy turns his head back in my direction, both his shots are poured, the drugged one being the one closest to him.

"Your fiancé's friends are a little rowdy tonight." He says with a smirk while I start pouring my drinks.

"I think Mr. Marsh has had a little too much to drink. Eric told me that his father is an alcoholic. Like father like son, I guess." I reply nonchalantly as take a seat across from the ginger.

"I say we drink to free entertainment!" He says as he raises his drugged beverage.

"To loud, obnoxious drunk people for without them, I'd be unemployed." I say as I raise my glass.

We clink our glasses and we both swallow the burning liquid in one shot. When I see him put the empty glass back on the table, I have to suppress the urge to smirk: that might make him suspicious. He starts asking me the same stupid questions about my friends, but little does he know that in a few hours, he'll be the one that will undergo interrogation. I relish that though.

"You seem to be getting really close to those two guys, aren't you?" He asks inquisitively.

"I told you last time: Eric is innocent and after what happened to Annie, he wants to make sure I'm safe. Stan and Kenny are just doing him a favour until we can prove his innocence." I dryly reply.

"It's odd that you proclaim his innocence when his gun was found to be the murder weapon." He says with a look of disgust on his face.

"It's odd that his gun was stolen and then magically found. It's also odd that Annie's boyfriend has not been seen around ever since. He didn't even have the decency to come to her funeral." I hiss.

"Why would he keep coming to a place that reminds him of his dead girlfriend? As for his lack of presence at her funeral, I was the one who told him not to come: he couldn't protect her from your fiancé blood thirst." He hisses back at me.

I take a deep breath because I am very close to slap him across the face. I didn't know that her boyfriend didn't show up at her funeral because of this ginger pain in the ass.

"How do you explain the fact that Eric is asking his friends to protect me then?" I ask once I find some sort of composure.

"I don't know: maybe he's scared I'll come after you to get revenge. Don't worry though; I'm not a cold blooded murderer like your dear little Eric." He says slurring.

He slurred! This is great; it means the GHB is starting to take effect. I need to keep him drinking for the drug to act faster because I don't know how long I can keep talking to this douche bag without punching him. I push his second glass towards him and grab mine.

"I am willing to bet you anything that very soon, new evidence will be found and that my fiancé's name will be cleared. Let's drink to the truth." I say as I raise my glass.

"I doubt it'll ever happen, but if it does, I will owe you an apology." He slurs as he clinks his glass to mine.

We both down the content of our glass, and once I'm done my shot, I get up and grab the scotch bottle once again and fill four new glasses while the annoying ginger looks at me with surprise. I sit back down and push two shots towards him.

"I'm not finished drinking and I figured you may as well join me for the next toast I want to make. I want to drink to Annie, the real victim in this whole mess. I promise I will get to the bottom of it so that she may rest in peace." I say raising my glass, once again.

Foley clinks his glass to mine and we drink again. I can see his body starting to wobble. After the next drink, he should be on the verge of being knocked out cold. And even if he isn't, it won't matter: all I'll have to do is to go get Mike and tell him that he touched me inappropriately so that he gets thrown out of the place and Stan and Kenny will be waiting for him outside.

"Finally, I want to drink to you." I start as he raises his eyebrow out of intrigue. "I have a feeling you know certain things that could explain why weird shit keep happening to Eric's friends." I continue as he reaches for his glass and raises it, clumsily spilling more than half of it all over the place. I can tell he's starting to be completely out of it. "I don't know what information you have, but I know for a fact I'll find out a little later." I finish before downing the content of the glass.

I have a feeling he is no longer aware of what is happening around him: his eyes are open, but he's clearly in a haze. He spilled the remainder of his drink all over himself and has trouble keeping his body straight. I make eye contact with Stan and nod: it's time to get this fool out of here.

"What was in that drink?" He manages to heavily slur.

I lean in over the table and whisper in his ear. "The clean and simple truth: sweet dreams, my dear. I'll see you when you wake up."

* * *

When Stan and Kenny took off with Foley, I told the rest of my colleagues that the ginger boy was highly intoxicated and that Stan and Kenny were going to take him home to make sure he wouldn't try to drive. Before they left, I made sure to remind them to go through his phone. I still had to finish my shift which sucked because I couldn't go with my friends. The ginger boy was responsive enough to answer questions, but far too groggy and sluggish to pose any resistance. The instant my shift ended, I rushed to the locker room to look at my phone. Surely enough, both Stan and Kenny sent me a shit ton of texts. The first ones are from Kenny and I received shortly after they left judging from the time. I anxiously start reading them.

 **I took his phone and went through his texts. There are a lot of fishy messages from a TB and a ST that are recent but there are no texts older than a week: he must delete them regularly.**

 **Last Saturday he texted TB about Stan! TB asked him to buy you a shot and ask you questions. There's also a txt from TB on Sunday asking him to deliver what he refers as** _ **tokens of appreciation**_ **to the 3 of us. No doubt: these ass holes have Butters!**

 **Oh and you were right about the silver Civic in front of your house: it was him.**

Holy shit! My gut feeling turned out to be correct!

 _Dude! Kenny is interrogating the crap out of him and it turns out that TB is Trent Boyett and ST is Scott Tenorman and this ginger ass hole is the one that put them in contact with each other._

 _ST is the guy that tried to jump you in the alley behind Vatican and TB came into the picture because ST was too scared to go back to Vatican and be recognized._

 _Holy fuck! Annie's boyfriend turned out to be TB and she was in on it. Ivy was their main target to get revenge from Cartman! They were planning to kill you and frame Cartman for it._

 _He knows nothing about Eric's gun though. TB and ST claimed they had nothing to do with it and he's convinced it's Cartman who did it. He asked TB to get some of his friends from jail to beat up Cartman and possibly kill him too._

 _Butters is in the basement at Scott's house. He doesn't know if he's dead or alive._

 _I don't think we're gonna get much more info from him for now._

I can't believe what I just read: Scott Tenorman and Trent Boyett teaming up? It's a fucking match made in hell! Eric's half brother tried to rape me and wanted to hurt Eric by hurting me... what a sick, sick psychopath! I will hit Foley in the face the second I see him for getting Eric beaten up and stabbed. That fucking ass hole! I run to Mike so he can walk me to the car: there's no way in hell I'm taking a chance. Once in the safety of my mother's car, I lock the doors and take off to go to Cartman's as quickly as possible. I am ready to bet anything that Trent Boyett is Annie's murderer: the last time I saw him was the night that Annie was shot. It would make sense for Scott and Trent to keep Foley in the dark since she is his cousin, but how can I prove Eric's innocence at this point? And what about poor Butters: is he still alive? If he is, he's missing two fingers and a toe! God knows what else they could have done to him. To me it's very clear: we have to find a way to get in Scott's house and save him, then we could look for clues or evidence that will prove once and for all that Eric is not a murderer, but how? The guys and I will need to brainstorm the second I get to Cartman's.

As I pull up in Eric's driveway, I get one more message from Stan.

 _Kenny has a plan and it's fucking glorious!_

* * *

This was personally my favorite chapter to write: Ivy was a total bad ass when she drugged that Foley ass hole!

Stay tuned to find out what Kenny's plan is!

Reviews are always welcome.

I love you all,

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


	24. Karma police

Kenny's genious plan is awesome! I hope you have fun reading this chapter as much as I had writing it.

Don't forget to review

* * *

I don't know how Foley did it, but I'm really glad he did. I'm not going to lie: last night, I swear I could have punched the mother fucker, but now he's fully forgiven. Last night, the two of us were texting back and forth, and then around one o'clock in the morning, he stopped texting me all together despite every update request I sent him. All he had to do was to tell me that he's text me in the morning, and that would have sufficed to calm me down. I was too pissed off to sleep, so I went downstairs to pay Butters a visit: I can't believe that blond douche bag is still alive. Sure, he's growing weaker by the hour, but he sure is taking his sweet fucking time to die! With the help of Scott's switch blade, I stabbed the blond in the legs a couple of times to draw some more blood so it might help him die a little faster. He no longer screams when I torture him; he no longer has the strength to do so. All he can do is gently whimper and Scott says it's getting on his nerves because he can't beat off to him unless he screams in agony. While I was watching the blond bleed, my phone finally buzzed and I got a message from Foley at circa four o'clock. _Finally!_

 _Sorry for the delay: Cartman's girl introduced me to Marsh and McCormick and they were sitting at my table. That's why I didn't respond to any of your texts. But I have a surprise for you._

 _ **What do you mean?**_

 _The two fools were a little drunk and Marsh invited me to go back to his place with McCormick and party some more because the two of them though I was pretty chill, so I ended up driving since the two were too out of it._

 _ **So what's the surprise?**_

 _I slipped both of them a roofie. I'll make sure they remain sedated until I bring them to you tomorrow at some point._

 _ **Why not now?**_

 _I'm a little drunk myself. Let me sleep it off and I'll be on my way._

 _ **What if they wake up?**_

 _With the amount of GHB they ingested, they'll be out of it until tomorrow night!_

When I showed Scott the texts, he was ecstatic! Initially, he was livid when I brought back Butters, but he enjoyed his screams and pleas so much that he just wants more and more of this and since the blond is too weak to scream anymore, Scott is thrilled that he'll soon have two more victims to masturbate to. I glance at the time: it's eleven o'clock and my patience is starting to run out. Scott and I are sitting in the living room, anxiously waiting for my phone to buzz. We're almost startled when it finally does.

 _I'm on my way._

"It was about bloody time!" I exclaim.

It isn't long until he arrives. When I open the door for him, I can't help but notice that he looks like shit: his hair is all fucked up, he has huge bags under his eyes and he looks a little out of it.

"What happened to you?" I can't help but ask. "You weren't kidding when you said you were drunk."

"Tell me about it! I woke up in my car with the two bozos tied up on the back seat and I don't remember anything from last night. Good thing I checked my texts." He admits, clearly embarrassed.

"Are they still out of it?" Scoot inquires.

"Oh, yes they are: they're knocked out cold." Foley replies.

"Alright: we'll go open the garage door for you: park your car in it. I don't want my neighbors to see us dragging two unconscious guys into my house." Scott instructs.

Foley nods and quickly goes to his car as Scott and I make our way to the garage.

"This is so strange: Foley is not normally a big drinker. I wonder what got into him."

"Maybe he's like me: he saw a golden opportunity and took a chance." I reply, smiling.

"Yeah, that's most likely what happened." Scott says as he presses the button to open the garage door.

As he was instructed to do, Foley backs up his car into the garage and Scott closes the door.

The two of us promptly walk to the Civic and open the passenger's side back door: there they are! Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick are both unconscious and totally helpless. I can't help but burst into laughter at this lovely sight. Scott helps me take McCormick out of the car first and we carry him to the basement, then we do the same with Marsh. Scott offers Foley to take a shower here, but Foley declines, saying that he doesn't feel too good and that he'd prefer going home. We leave the two ass holes on the floor for now: they're all tied up anyway. But the best was Butters' reaction when he painfully lifted his head and saw Kenny being carried down followed by Stan. The whimpers and cries that he emitted out of pure, utter despair were worth more than all the tea in China. I'm starting to understand why Scott loves to watch people getting tortured. The moment they regain consciousness, I will have so much fun with them! While we wait, Scott and I go back upstairs and decide to have some scotch to celebrate.

Four down; one to go! Brace yourself Kyle Broflovski: you're up next!

* * *

From the bush from which I'm hiding, I see Foley's car backing up into Scott's garage and then watch as the garage door closes. My two friends are in there and that thought makes it so I feel a lump forming in my throat. I take a deep breath and dial 9-1-1.

"Please state your emergency" Says a female dispatcher.

"Hi! I was doing my morning jog and I heard screams and loud banging noises coming from a house. I'm pretty sure I also heard some glass shatter. I think that someone in there is in distress." I say using my falsetto.

"Do you know the people that live in that house?" She asks.

"No I don't, but I just heard another scream." I add.

"What is the address? I'll send a patrol car right away."

"It's 201 Carnival road"

"Thank you. A patrol car will be there shortly." She says before cutting the connection.

I borrowed a track suit from Liane's closet as well as some over sized sunglasses. I'm wearing my wigs tied up in a ponytail and I've done my make up a lot less heavy than usual for this occasion. I hope Kenny's plan works, it has to. To my dismay, the garage door reopens and Foley takes off. All they have to do is go through Trent and Scott's phone and that Foley ass hole will also be incriminated. As soon as his car is out of sight, I come out from my hiding place and start walking to the front of Scott's house just as the patrol car turns the corner. They stop the car on the street and two officers get out of the car: A tall blond guy and a shorter, slightly chubby brunette.

"Good morning ma'am, are you the person that placed the call?" They ask me.

"Yes, it was me."

"Can you describe what happened?" The blond one asks me.

"I was jogging and I heard screams a crashing sounds, almost like glass shattering, coming from inside the house. I immediately called 9-1-1." I state.

"Ma'am, you did the right thing by calling us. The way you describe it, it's probably a domestic dispute. I'll ask you to remain close to the patrol car for your safety." The shorter officer says.

The two police officers start walking towards Scott's front door and seeing that, I pull out my phone and text both Stan and Kenny. _Now!_ The officers ring the doorbell and a few moments later, Scott opens the door. Almost immediately, Stan and Kenny start screaming their lungs out and I can hear the sound of stuff breaking and cracking coming from inside the house.

"Help us please! They want to torture and kill us!" Kenny screams from inside.

Upon hearing Kenny's call for help, the policemen immediately pull their guns and point them to Scott who looks like a deer caught in head lights, until he notices me by the patrol car. I take off my sunglasses, wink at him and blow him a kiss. At this point, Scott looks absolutely mortified as he puts his hands up in the air while the blond officer calls for reinforcements. The shorter officer slowly goes in the house and Scott takes advantage of that and kicks the gun out of the blond officer's hand. I hear a gunshot coming from inside and I fear for my friends, until I see Scott collapse to the ground. The taller cop retrieves his gun and promptly handcuffs Scott, who's been shot in the shin. He glances towards me once more, his eyes filled with hate and I look back at him smiling triumphantly before flipping him off. I hear the sirens: reinforcements are coming and that means that soon, my friends will be out of that hell hole.

* * *

Hi there! My name is Stan Marsh and I'm sixteen years old. I'm your typical teenagers, but somehow weird shit keeps happening to me and my friends. Some of those weird things are chill and other stuff, not so chill. The current situation we're in falls in the not so chill category: one of us is in jail waiting to be trialed for a crime he didn't even commit; another has been undergoing torture for the past five days and from how he sounded and looked when he was in front of me mere moments ago, I'd say he had much better days; my best friend in the whole world turns out to be a sexy shot girl that rocks at pouring drugs into bad people's drinks and also works for the Italian mob; and last but not least, the one that's next to me is a drug dealing monkey enthusiast and he's the mastermind behind this glorious plan.

When Kenny and I were left in the basement by Scott and Trent, we undid the very loose binds that were around our writs: they were put there by Ivy a few hours before, when she dropped us off at Foley's car, which we had previously picked up from the Vatican parking lot and parked in front of my house for added realism. Once we were free, all we had to do was to wait for Ivy's text warning us that the cops have arrived and then run upstairs and make as much noise as possible. Kenny wanted to see how badly Butters was doing, but I told him there'll be plenty of time to do that once the two psychopaths from upstairs are under arrest.

 _Now!_ Both of our phones buzz at the same time and the two of us run up the stairs as quickly as we can while screaming like lunatics. Once we reach the main floor, Kenny takes care of breaking picture frames, vases and other things that make loud noises. He even kicks and breaks the coffee table in the living room. While Kenny is busy making a mess, I don't waste a second and pounce on Trent, trying to pin him to the floor until the cops make their way in. I didn't realise how strong this douche bag is, and he quickly overpowers me and now, I am beneath him and he's throwing a series of punches aimed at my face. I manage to dodge the first three strikes, but on the fourth blow, he connects with my cheek. He punches me once, twice, trice and that's where I lose count. He finally stops once he hears a gunshot fired by the cops and quickly gets off of me when a police officer walks into the room and aims his gun at him. From this point, everything becomes a little hazy.

"Freeze!" The cop says firmly.

Boyett lets out a growl, sounding almost like a wild animal and starts running, most likely trying to tackle the police officer while screaming "I'm not going back to jail!", but fortunately, the officer shoots him in both legs and the blond psychopath falls helplessly to the ground.

Another officer runs in and promptly handcuffs Trent Boyett while the one that shot him swiftly comes to me.

"It's over young man. I'm calling an ambulance for you." He says, kneeling next to me.

"Downstairs… He needs it more than me." I weakly mutter.

I see Kenny running downstairs and I hear him call Butters' name, and then the world slowly fades to black.

* * *

Hello! My name is Kenny McCormick and I'm sixteen years old. My hobbies include dying over and over again and coming back to life over and over again. Don't ask me why, but that's how it's always been. The longest I was dead for was a whole year while I roamed hell and heaven: one of the perks of having this 'gift' or 'talent' is that whether I'll go to hell or heaven depends on how I feel at this point, but if you ask me, it's more of a curse than anything. Dying fucking sucks, period. But enough about me, we'll save that for another time.

Last night, after we tied Foley to Liane's bed and I interrogated him, we had a whole bunch of information, but we were unsure as to how to handle it. Calling the police and reporting their crimes as is was completely out of question because it would have also meant to turn ourselves in: we did indeed drug Foley and abduct him. Sure, we need the police to be involved, but we need to be seen as the victims that we actually are instead of perpetrators. The fact that the ginger guy was intoxicated with GHB is what got me thinking: since GHB induces memory loss, why not use it to our advantage? All we needed was a way to be brought into Scott's house and have the cops barge in immediately after so that those two psychopaths would be arrested before causing any harm to us. So the plan I came up with consisted of making up a bullshit story in which Foley would have drugged and abducted us to take us to Scott's house. The GHB made it so Foley didn't remember anything and would have to rely on the text messages that we sent from his phone. Then, we'd have Ivy call the cops to report something that sounds like domestic violence and once the cops would arrive, Stan and I would magically wake up and Tada! Goodbye Scott Tenorman and Trent Boyett! Have fun in jail!

My plan worked perfectly! Now that the two psychopaths are handcuffed, I don't waste a minute: I run back to Scott's basement as fast as I can to check on poor Butters. Stan got beat up pretty bad, but Stan is very strong and athletic: he'll get over it and recover in no time. Butters on the other hand, he's a bit of a softie. One of the police officers, the blond one, follows me down and upon seeing what state my blond friend is in, he promptly asks the other officer to call for ambulances. Butters looks pitiful: he's lying, all tied up, on a woodworking table that has a mix of fresh and dried blood beneath it. You can clearly see stab wounds all over his body and his breathing is very shallow. The wounds where his fingers were amputated are starting to fester and his forehead is very hot: no doubt about it, he's fighting a major infection and hopefully he can pull through it. I help the police officer undo his binds, and Butters is trying to mumble something.

"Shhhh." I tell him. "Save your strength bud, they're gonna take you to the hospital and you'll be OK." I add. Poor Butters, it's awful to see him like this.

A few moments later, the paramedics come down the stairs with a stretcher and start to take care of him and while they're doing their job, I make sure to show the cops something I had noticed when I was down here with Stan a little earlier: there's a picture of Eric with bullet holes into it, and knowing what I know now, I am ready to bet anything that those bullets were shot from Eric's gun. That would prove once and for all that Eric's gun was indeed stolen and that he's innocent. Hopefully, once Butters recovers, he may even have more information due to the conversations he most likely overheard: he was here for five days after all.

The blond officer and I go back upstairs and let the paramedic do their job in peace. Stan is already in one of the three ambulances and although he regained consciousness, he will also be brought to Hell's Pass since he probably got a concussion from all the blows he received to the head. I glance outside and see several more police cars have arrived and some officers are asking Ivy some questions and taking notes. The blond officer starts taking my deposition when we see the paramedics come up with Butters and make their way to the ambulance. Scott and Trent will also be brought to Hell's Pass to treat their wounds, but at least they'll be under arrest and under police supervision.

* * *

My name is Leopold Stotch, but everyone calls me Butters. I am sixteen years old and people know me for my natural cheerfulness and friendliness. People view me as naive and gullible and they're absolutely right about that it seems. It all started about two months ago, when my friend Eric Cartman got arrested at school. Eric is a little fat, you see: despite the fact that he lost some weight in the past few years, he's still the biggest guy in school, or was the biggest guy in school until his arrest. With him gone, Clyde started ripping on me for being the fattest kid in school, so I decided to become more active and I got into the habit of jogging every day. Saturday night, I couldn't sleep so I decided to go for a jog around Stark's pond and then something horrible happened: Trent Boyett attacked me and kept me tied up in a basement where he tortured me for five days. He had sworn he'd get revenge on us, and he did get revenge on me twice. He cut off my two pinkies and my little toe: it hurt like hell. And then, Eric's half brother... he did something really gross. I've never felt so terrified, violated and so vulnerable in my entire life. When I saw my friends Stan and Kenny being brought down by my two captors, I felt even more desperate because I knew that they were going to do to them what they had done to me. They were just waiting for me to die, but thank goodness, Stan and Kenny freed themselves and the police came. Shortly after, paramedics arrived and brought me to the hospital by ambulance and that's when everything got really fuzzy in my head, almost like a dream. I don't remember much, but I got a few glimpses: my parents; the doctors; the nurses; the machines I was hooked to. I remember the odd feeling of not being in pain all the time.

I open my eyes, fully conscious for the first time is Gosh knows how long, and the first thing I notice other than having all sorts of machines beeping around me, is my mother asleep on a chair next to me. My father is sitting on another chair next to her and although he's awake, he looks extremely exhausted: I've never seen him look like that. The second he realises that I'm awake, he gently shakes my mom's shoulder to wake her up and his eyes start to water.

"Linda, wake up honey. Our Butters is awake!" He says. My mom wakes up. "Son, I'm so happy you pulled through. I swear I'll never ground you again." He continues.

"Oh, my little boy is awake. We were so worries, so scared we'd never see you again." My mom exclaims before bursting into tears.

My parents both scoot closer to me in order to hug me, gesture that I welcome with pleasure. I too thought I'd never see my family or my friends ever again. I was convinced I was going to die alone in the wretched basement while those two psychopaths laughed it off. I can't help it: I too burst into tears. I don't know if I'm crying out of relief, anger, stress or sadness. The doctor walks into the room while my parents and I are having this heartwarming moment and she seems very pleased that that I'm awake.

"Hello Leopold, it's nice to see you finally woke up. How are you feeling?" She asks me as my parents go sit back into their respective chair.

"Well, I've had better days, obviously, but I'm much better than I was when I was brought here, I supposed. By the way, what day is it?"

"Today is Sunday and it's one thirty seven in the afternoon. We kept you sedated as much as possible, but now you're doing well enough so we stopped the sedatives." She explains.

"Spring break is already over? Ah, man! That's just my luck!" I stupidly complain. This was by far the worst spring break I've ever had in my life anyways.

"Don't worry Leopold-"

"Butters. Please call me Butters if you don't mind." I interrupt her. I really don't it when people call me Butters.

"Alright, Butters. You won't be going to school for a while. Let me explain what we did for you so far and what remains to be done so you can have the best possible quality of life after going through such a big trauma. When you got here, the wounds where you were amputated on your hands were starting to fester. We had to remove your metacarpal bones in both hands, but the good news is that your foot was fine upon your arrival. Because of the festering, your blood got infected and we've been giving you strong doses of antibiotics intravenously and once you'll be well enough to go home, you'll have to take some orally for a while. In a few days, you'll be seeing an occupational therapist to help you readjust to your life as smoothly as possible. You'll also be seen by a psychiatrist and a psychologist so they may give you the tools to cope with what happened. Do you have any questions?"

I look at her, dumbfounded, and nod no. "Not for now." I say as I look down to my bandaged hands and start to cry some more. My mom gives me a little pat on the shoulder, in sympathy.

"Before I forget, we will transfer you from the intensive care unit to an extended stay department later this afternoon. You'll have your own private room. Also, the police investigators want your deposition now that you are well enough to respond. I wish you luck Butters, and you'll see: in no time, life will be wonderful again for you." She adds, with a smile on her face before exiting the room.

* * *

The new room I was moved in to much cozier: it has a window and less equipment is beeping around me. The nurse explained that my friends can come visit me every day. My parents brought me my laptop so I can watch stuff on youtube or Netflix and they also brought me books and a new iphone. My old iphone was lost when I got attacked. They give me morphine every hour or so, and when they inject it, it's like being on a cloud: the total opposite of the hell I've lived for five days. The nurse told me that sergeant detective Yates is about to come in.

"Leopold Stotch, I see you're doing better." The sergeant says.

"Yes sir, but please call me Butters."

"We have physical proof of what you underwent at the hands of Trent Boyett and Scott Tenorman, but we have a few questions that would be relevant on another case-"

"Eric Cartman's case, am I right? Yeah, he's totally innocent." I cut him off.

"That was very direct on your part. How do you know?" He asks.

"Well, I overheard them talking about how they should have kept the gun a little longer and kill me with it before disposing of it so Eric could be framed for double homicide." I say.

"Do you know which one of the two killed Annabelle Foley?"

"It was Trent Boyett and, huh, I don't know if it's helpful, but I overheard Trent implying that Scott raped her. And the two of them were also after Stan Marsh, Kenny McCormick and Kyle Broflovski."

"Thanks for your time Butters. It looks like ballistics will have some tests to run. I wish you a speedy recovery." He says as he takes his leave.

* * *

Yay! The two ass holes are out of the picture! Stay tuned for the final chapter: some surprises are coming!

Please review.

I love you all,

xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo


	25. Wake up call

I hope you'll enjoy the last chapter.

Don't forget to review.

* * *

After being nothing but miserable and scared for the past two months, I finally managed to breathe a sigh of relief when I got the news. For once, the bearer of good news was my father: the charges against Eric were dropped. One week after the guys and I rescued Butters, the ballistic test results came back and they were able to determine that the bullets found in Scott Tenorman's basement matched Eric's firearm. He told me that he could have still gotten in trouble for owning a fake ID and purchasing a gun with it, but since he got attacked twice while he was incarcerated, and that one of those times could have been deadly, the State of Colorado won't prosecute him for it. Speaking of the attacks: it turns out it was Trent Boyett's old cellmate, a dangerous youth known as Romper Stomper, who carried them out upon Trent's request. Romper Stomper was put into solitary confinement and a subsequent five years for attempted murder were added to the sentence he was already purging. My father also gave me some other news: my family will come back to South Park in a week. He also told me what Trent Boyett, Scott Tenorman and Anthony Foley are facing: Trent is facing a life sentence for the murder of Annabelle Foley with an added ten years for kidnapping and sequestration, twenty years for torture and fifteen years for the framing. Scott Tenorman is facing twenty five year for attempted murder, ten years for sequestration, twenty years for torture and fifteen years for forging forensic evidence. However, since Scott has a history of mental illness, he could plead insanity and be sent to another asylum. Finally, Anthony Foley is facing ten years for kidnapping and fifteen for being an accessory to serious felonies. I'm glad to know that these dangerous individuals are going to be locked up and unable to harm anyone else.

The guys and I took the time to go visit poor Butters a couple of times since he woke up: the poor little guy is hanging in there as best as he can. He's been undergoing bouts of rage where he pretty much tries to destroy everything in his room. The first time we went to see him, he was in the middle of one of these bouts, but the second he saw us, he dropped to his knees and started to cry. It was almost surreal to see Butters, the guy who's always cheerful and so happy go lucky, break down like that. The fact that the cops pay him daily visits to ask him more and more questions for the investigation doesn't help. He cried on Kenny's shoulder on told us that he's just sick and tired or living those five horrific days over and over whenever the investigators ask him questions. All he wants is heal, physically and mentally, and move on with his life. Other than that, he's getting better every day: his hands are healing and he's learning how to function without his two pinkies.

* * *

I am ecstatic! I am overcome with joy and happiness! The second Eric sees me outside of Alamosa, he runs towards me, picks me up and spins me around, puts me back down and gives me longest, most tender kiss I've ever experienced. It's the type of kiss that sends shivers up and down your spine, the kind that gives you goose bumps and that makes your core and heart flutter like the wings of a majestic butterfly playing in the wind. It started off as a chaste kiss, but quickly and with almost perfect timing, our tongues demanded entry into each other's mouths and soon, our two tongues were dancing together. In these past two months, I almost forgot how good he tasted and how intoxicating his scent was. I run my fingers through his smooth brown hair while he takes a handful of my red curls and pulls them ever so slightly. Our loving reunion stops when we hear the sound of someone gagging and eventually we hear someone throwing up, followed by a burst of giggles. My fiancé and I turn towards the source of the sounds and see the following: Stan just threw up in the parking lot and Kenny is pointing at him and laughing while Bebe's Boobs mimics her master's actions and laughter. Eric and I can't help ourselves and end up joining Kenny in his laughter. A few moments later, Stan's stomach seems to be settled and he finally straightens himself up.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you two make out." He says, shaking his head.

"Oh, come on Stan! It was just a little kiss: It's not like they were grinding each other." Kenny replies with a smirk. It makes Stan gag again.

"Jesus Christ, dude! Why do you always have to be such a fucking pussy?" Cartman asks.

Despite the happiness of this moment, there's a dark cloud looming over me. I don't know how I'll break the news to Eric, but I don't have a choice.

"Alright guys." I start. "We have a long drive ahead of us: we better start heading now if we want to make it there before dark." I continue before I turn to my super best friend. "Are you gonna be OK, dude?"

Stan nods a yes, while Cartman looks at me with a look of suspicion in his gorgeous hazel eyes.

"What do you mean by that, Khal? We're only two and a half hours away from South Park."

I try to tell him, but I don't really have the heart to. I open my mouth several times to try to answer him, but no sound escapes. Kenny picks up on it and comes to my rescue.

"We're not going to South Park, bud. We need to get you to Denver as soon as possible and we're spending the night there. Kyle packed up some clothing for you and we already booked a room." Kenny says as Cartman looks at him with a concerned look on his face.

"And just why are we going there?" He hesitantly asks after swallowing dryly.

I finally find the courage to speak. "I got a call from Anschuts: your mom might not make it through the night." I say, putting a hand on his shoulder.

His eyes widen incredibly and tears start to rise in his eyes. His breathing gets a little bit erratic and he starts to lightly quiver.

"Quick! Let's go, you guys! If I don't see her, I'll never forgive myself." He says as he opens the front passenger's door of Stan's car. The three of us take the hint and quickly board Stan's vehicle.

I have a feeling that it's going to be a very long, very silent four hour car ride. Sitting behind Stan, I can sort of see my fiancé suppressing tears and nervously playing with his hands: I don't even want to know what is going on in his mind right now.

* * *

As soon as Stan's car is parked, we briskly make our way to see Ms. Cartman's with Eric leading us to her room. Kenny made sure to wear sunglasses and Stan is guiding him by holding him by the arm: he wants to pass for a blind person so that Bebe's Boobs is allowed the hospital as a blind person's animal aid. We are finally standing in front of Liane's room and Eric slowly opens the door after taking a deep breath and swallowing dryly. We enter the room and I can't believe how much Liane has deteriorated since I saw her last time, a mere two weeks ago. She's reduced to nothing more than skin and bones, her complexion is a duller shade of grey and her eyes that used to sparkle are almost completely lifeless, until she notices her son standing in the doorway: upon seeing him, a faint spark resurges. On the other hand, Eric is completely flabbergasted by the sight of his mother in such condition. He quickly, but quietly makes his way to the side of her bed and takes a seat in the chair placed there. Seeing him, Liane extends her frail, trembling hand and she caresses her son's cheek.

"My little poopsykin came to see me! I missed you so much my sweet boy. It's so nice of you to have brought all your little friends." She says in a weary, almost inaudible voice.

"Shhhh, mom. Save your strength. I'm here now." Eric tells her, clearly fighting the tears that rise in his sad hazel eyes.

"Kyle, thank you for bringing me my boy and thank you for visiting me as often as you have in the past few months. I really wish I could be around for your wedding day: you two are meant for one another. Please take care of him when I'm gone." She says, ignoring her son's demand and looking at me with a faint smile drawing itself upon her face. I feel the tears rise in my eyes.

"You can count on me, Ms. Cartman. I will take care of him as best as I can." I tell her, smiling through my own tears

He scoots his chair closer to his mother and delicately wraps his arms around her, allowing her to comfortably rest her head on his bulky and supple arm. He shushes her once again, but she completely ignores him.

"Eric Theodore Cartman, you need to know something I never told you. When I got pregnant, everyone was pushing me to get rid of you. I categorically refused. When I was too far along the pregnancy to get aborted, they tried to convince me to give you up, but I stood my ground." She starts, pausing to take a breath while her son starts to gently sob. "It was the best decision of my life. Eric, you are the best thing I that ever happened to me and I love you very, very much. Despite you being a difficult child and a wild teenager, you are very caring and sensitive despite the wall you built around yourself to protect your feelings." She continues, pausing one more time to breathe while tears are streaming down Eric's cheeks. She grips Eric's sleeve and looks up to his face, to his eyes. "Eric, you are a beautiful boy inside and out. Tear down that wall, Eric. Show the world your true colours: they are so beautiful." She concludes with her final breath. Her grip on Eric's sleeve loosens and her head flops over to the side.

"Mom? Mom!" He says, gently shaking her. His words seem half caught in his throat. "Please mom, you can't leave me now." He continues, now hugging her lifeless frail body. "No! No! No!" He finally screams before bursting into heavy and erratic sobs.

Seeing him like that breaks my heart. I walk to him and rest my hand on his shoulder and he carefully sets his mother back down on the bed before he turns towards me and wraps his bulky arms around my waist, never ceasing to sob. I glance at Stan and Kenny, and the two of them are silently crying. With a head movement, I signal them to come closer which they immediately do. Eric ends up being group hugged by all of us, including Bebe's Boobs who's hugging his leg. We stay like that for a moment until one of the nurses walks in. Eric lifts his head from my waist, my t-shirt now dampened by his tears: his face is all red and puffy and my heart breaks even further.

"My condolences Mr. Cartman." The nurse says after covering Liane with a white sheet. "Someone is preparing the paperwork to have the body discharged. They will come see you shortly." She continues before leaving the room.

I can see the nurse's lack of tact is making Eric angry, so I pull him into a hug to calm him down before he makes a scene: I know how emotional he can get over small things, so when it's something major, there's no telling what he could possibly do.

"Take deep breaths." I whisper in his ear. "I'm here for you. The guys are here for you. We'll make it through this."

* * *

The general mood was very heavy when we checked in to the hotel room the night that Liane passed away. That time, we had booked it in a decent hotel, unlike the time Stan, Kenny and I stayed in Alamosa. Don't get me wrong: it was not a fancy place, but at least the furniture and the beds didn't look like they were straight out of the eighties. We were at the hospital for a few hours following Liane's death: Eric had to sign off on a lot of paperwork so that the hospital could make arrangements such as to send her body to the right funeral home. Eric and Liane had already planned for this when she first got diagnosed, before her condition deteriorated, to make things easier on Eric once the time came. Eric didn't want to make the arrangements at the time because he was in denial as to the severity of her condition, but I think he was a little relieved that the arrangements were made ahead of time: he didn't have to go through the unpleasant hassle of choosing a coffin, flowers, songs and other difficult decisions that arise at a time of grief.

The room we had gotten had two queen sized beds one next to the other. I remember Stan, who was probably trying to alleviate some of the gloom we were all feeling, asked Eric and I not to have sex right next to him and Kenny. Eric didn't even respond at Stan's humorous jab, but instead gave him the death glare. We had gone to bed early: all of us were exhausted from all the driving and all the emotions that we went through that day. Eric had cried himself to sleep in my arms while all I could think about were Liane's last words: I had never heard anything truer being said about my fiancé and I feel privileged that he had allowed me to see his real self after all these years of putting up a front.

My parents came back yesterday from Connecticut, just in time for Liane's funeral. I remember the shock my mother was under when I told her over the phone a few days prior. Her shock was even greater when I told them I was sleeping at Cartman's house that night on the drive back from the airport. She got offended that I didn't want to spend time with my family after not seeing them for so long. I simply told her that Eric just lost his mother and was sick with grief and couldn't be left alone, after which she calmed down a bit. It's going to take some time to readapt to living with my family again. Unsurprisingly, the moment we got home, my dad immediately asked me about the law book and what I learned from it.

"Law is not based on truth, but rather on reasonable doubt. The case of The State of Colorado Vs Eric Cartman is proof my statement. An innocent was jailed while waiting for trial during two months preventing him from seeing his dying mother. All of it was based on an assumption rather than on facts." I dryly replied.

My statement seemed to have taken him off guard and he dropped the whole _what did you learn_ interrogation right there and then.

Today, we celebrate Liane's funeral. For once, the church is filled with people, myself and my family included. It pisses me off that I can't sit with my fiancé the day of his mother's funeral, but I have no choice since my family is back. I don't know how long I'll be able to bear live a lie, keeping the relationship with the love of my life a secret from a family that is supposed to love me unconditionally. Eric is supposed to say a few words during the ceremony and I wonder if he'll be able to bear it. Granted, he did pop a xanax pill before coming here in order to calm his nerves a little bit. Priest Maxi starts the ceremony and briefly talks of Liane being with Jesus and God or whatever Catholics believe. I'm not really paying attention to his words, but rather to Eric and how I wish I could be seated next to him so I could hold his hand and feel a little more like his future husband rather than just another one of his friends. Finally, Eric gets up and makes his way to the altar to give his eulogy. He starts off with a passage from the bible, but then he expresses himself in his own words.

"Thank you all for coming here. I really appreciate all the support and kind words I've received from all of you to help me get through these difficult times. My mother would have been pleased to see how the little town of South Park came together to commemorate her short life and help me mourn her departure." Eric started. "My mother was far from perfect, but her greatest strength is that she did the most she could with what she had. My mother worked ass off to be able to raise me all by herself." Eric continued although some people gasped upon hearing the word _ass_ in the church. "My mother didn't care what people thought of her: she always followed her convictions... and I happened to be one of them. She believed in me like no one ever did, she knew me like no one ever did and she loved me like no one ever did." His eyes are tearing up and he's looking straight at me right now. My pulse accelerates. "No one, except for you, Kyle: while everyone branded me as a criminal, you believed that I was innocent. When I made fun of you or teased you endlessly throughout the years, rather than cut all ties with me, you stuck around no matter how annoyed you got because you suspected it was just a front I was putting up. Kyle, when my life started crumbling around me, you never let me down. My mom loved you for it, and so do I. Thank you for being there for us." He concluded with tears streaming down his cheeks.

His words felt as sharp as a dagger, but were as sweet as cotton candy at the same time. All eyes are on me now, and I feel tears rise in my own eyes and my face is burning up. Eric moves away from the altar and makes his way over to me. _He's not seriously doing this to me._ I quickly scan the room: Kenny's jaw dropped and Stan is clearly trying to suppress a stops by the bench where my family and I are seated and signals me to get up. _He is seriously doing it. God damn it Cartman!_ His eyes are filled with tears and his quivering smile show just how emotional he is right now. As awkward as the situation feels, his words and his expression just melt my heart. I get up and go join him, being careful as to not step on anyone's feet. My face burns and my heart feels as though it's going to jump out of my chest. Everyone is staring at Cartman and me. As I'm about to reach Eric, I quickly glance at my family. My mom has a huge smile on her face and her eyes are filled with tears of pride: she probably thinks Eric meant that he loved me as one loves a brother. My father has a perplexed look on his face: he probably has some doubts as to what Eric meant. Ike has a little amused smirk and a raised eyebrow: the little shit actually figured it out. I'm finally standing in front of my secret-not-so-secret fiancé and he just bear hugs me for a few moments and keeps muttering _thank yous._

Next thing I know, everyone in the church, my parents included, are clapping at us. Other than Ike, Stan and Kenny, everyone here thinks this is about brotherly love. As Eric breaks our embrace, he places a hand behind my shoulder and guides me to go sit front row with him. I look at my family and my mother nods a yes although my father still seams perplexed, but at least he says nothing about it. As soon as we sit back on the front row bench, Eric takes my discretely put my hand in his and leans over.

"I love you Kyle" He whispers in my ears.

Suddenly, it hits me like a ton of bricks: Ever since Liane passed away, Eric has been pronouncing my name properly. Coming from Eric, this is a huge deal.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Eric asks me as he puts some clean boxers on.

"Yeah, I'm convinced." I reply with certitude.

After the funeral, my mother immediately asked Eric if he wanted to come over to our place for diner. Eric didn't hesitate to take her up on the offer, but he said he wanted to go home first to maybe take a shower and put on some more casual clothing. I immediately told my parents that I was going to go back to Eric place with him because I had forgotten a bag with some of my personal stuff from yesterday's sleep over. My parents seemed to buy it, but Ike just heavily sighed while covering his face with the palm of his hand. The second we arrived at Eric's place, he rushed upstairs while I was left on the couch to ponder certain questions I needed to answer for myself. I had a taste of what it was like to live with Eric until he was arrested, and it was the best, most serene time of my life. Eric can be a major pain in the ass, but he doesn't put pressure on me and he doesn't demand me to be something I'm not. That first month after my parent's departure, I barely had any stress to deal with and for the first time since my childhood ended, I truly felt free. I have quite a large sum of money put aside from working at Vatican and I still have a little over a year to work there before graduation, so money is not an issue to pursue my dreams of world travel. The real questions remain: Can I put up with my parents for another year? Now that Stan and Kenny know about my relationship with Eric, will I be able to keep it hidden much longer? The answer to both these questions is a solid no. When I hear the shower stop, I go up to see Eric and discuss a couple of things with him.

"I want to come out to my family." I brashly say. Eric giggles at my statement.

"I don't really care if you do, but you do realize that your asshole father will disown you for it, right?" Eric asks. I nod positively. "You do realize that with because of your mom's big mouth, the whole town will know about us by the time your father will be done kicking you out of his house?" He asks again on a tone that is just as stern.

"I am convinced that it's the best thing to do. After everything we've been through in the past few months, nothing scares me anymore. My father's threats don't scare me; my mother's screeching doesn't scare me; other people's judgements don't scare me. The only thing that scares me is to lose you again." I reply, looking at my fiancé right in the eyes. He smiles at my statements and comes up to me to embrace and kiss me.

I have never felt so strong in my life, and I just figured out why: when Eric and I are together, we become invincible.

* * *

"Thank you very much for having me over for dinner Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski." Eric says to my parents once we're all done eating.

"It's our pleasure. You've been through very rough times lately and it's the least we can do." My mom replies in a sweet voice.

"It would have been much worse if Kyle wasn't there for me." He says, glancing at me. I feel myself blush slightly.

"You boys seem to have grown really close lately." My father casually says.

"Even a little too close perhaps." Ike slyly mutters. My mother looks at him with a perplexed look.

"What is that supposed to mean?" My mom asks after a brief moment of silence.

Eric and I look at each other: It's now or never. I take a deep breath as Eric smirks and nods. As I expected, my pulse accelerates and I suddenly need to take a crap. I take Eric's hand in mine; upon seeing that, my father glares at me and Ike's face is crossed with a mild look of disgust.

"It just means that I'm gay and that Eric and I are a couple." I finally admit, staring at my father straight in the eyes.

My mother gasps and my father looks at Eric and me as though he wants to kill us both. Ike seems amused by the whole situation. My father's face turns red and is contorting with rage. If my father had looked at me like that a year ago, I would have shat my pants right then and there. But now, I feel nothing but confidence and fearlessness. I can't help but smile at my bewildered family.

"You!" My father says as he points at Eric. "Out of my house! You will not corrupt my son any further!" He turns to me "And you, you are to never see him again. No son of mine is going to be a fagot, understood?"

Eric and I look at each other once more and burst into laughter. This time, my father gets up, walks over to me and tries to strike me, much to my mother's horror, but his arm is caught mid air by Eric.

"Oh no you don't. Not under my watch: remember what happened last time Mr. Broflovski? It'd be a shame if you had to walk around with another black eye." He sternly warns him, his eyes narrowing onto my father's.

"What? What? What?" My mother screeches

"Sheila, let me handle this. Get out of my house, you stupid son of a whore!" He spits at my fiancé. I can just see the pain those words inflicted in Eric's eyes and I will not allow my asshole father to treat my fiancé like that.

"Don't you dare say that to my fiancé ever again!" I yell, startling both my parents and Ike. "I love him and nothing you can do or say will change ever that."

My father takes a few steps back and looks at me with an air of sheer and utter disgust. My mother looks as though she's on the verge of crying: she frozen in place and seems to be trembling. Ike's face has gone from smug to a little worried. My father ends up taking a deep breath and he looks at me dead in the eyes.

"Kyle, this has gone far enough and this is your last warning: you are to stay away from this-"he pauses then points his finger at Eric. "This abomination. For as long as you live under my roof, you will follow my rules. You have no more social privileges and when you are not in school, you will be upstairs in your room studying your law manuals. Is that clear?" He says relatively calmly compared to how enraged he looks.

I stare blankly at my father, my mind being somewhere else. Memories from the night that changed me forever are coming back to me in waves; that night, I realized that I'd rather get disowned than to live a life I didn't get choose. I recall everything that I went through with Eric these past three months, and I know for a fact that there's no way in hell I can live without him in my life. My mind was already made up before coming here anyway.

"Everything is crystal clear to me, but it doesn't seem clear to you father: I will never be a lawyer and I'm gay. Eric and I are engaged and that is final. If you can't accept it-"

"I will never accept that! If you don't can't be reasonable and put an end to this nonsense, then you can just leave this house and never come back!" He interrupts me, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Kyle, as I told you before: my house is your house. Come live with me." Eric softly says.

"Let's get out of here." I say, taking my fiancé's hand.

I look at my so-called family one last time: Ike seems troubled and confused and my mother is sobbing quietly. When we walk by next to her, she extends her arm and gently brushes my cheek.

"Kyle, my bubbe-"She says before she starts wailing inconsolably.

"Sheila, don't give him any attention! I don't know whose son he is, but he sure as hell isn't mine!" My father yells at my poor mother which makes her cry even more.

"Kyle, wait-"Ike screams.

"Stay out of this Ike! Let this be a lesson for you too. If you don't follow the rules, there will be consequences!"

Despite the fact that I'm sad and a little heartbroken, I don't turn back. My father singlehandedly destroyed his very own family by being a control freak. I kind of feel bad for Ike and my mother: the atmosphere is going to be very shitty for the next little while in that house. Eric and I walk out of my parent's house hand in hand and start heading to Eric's house.

* * *

"All in all, I'm proud of you babe. You were able to stand up to your douche bag father. For a second, I was scared that you were going to cave in to his demands." Eric tenderly says as we get out of his car.

"Yeah, well I realized that I wasn't going to be able to survive another full year with him breathing down my neck. Besides, if I chose to stay with them, then everything we went through the past few months would have been meaningless." I reply as we walk to the door.

"In any case, welcome home, Kyle." He exclaims as he unlocks the door.

I smile, thinking about how happy I am to finally be free from all the stress my family generates.

"I guess you're stuck with me for good now." I tell my fiancé as I wrap my arms around his bulky frame.

He lifts my chin up and puts his lips to mine, kissing me tenderly until he parts them, inviting my tongue to dance with his, invitation which I gladly accept. The dance starts off slow, but builds in intensity with each passing second and it isn't long until we both start lightly panting. "Upstairs?" He asks after breaking the kiss. I nod, accepting his offer. He picks me up and carries me bridal style upstairs before gently setting me on his bed. After putting his mouth to mine once again, he undoes my pants and pulls them down along with my underwear revealing my erection. He gently starts to stroke me, making me moan in his mouth. I repay the favour by removing his pants, only I break the kiss and I go lick his rock hard cock, teasing it mercilessly before taking his whole length in my mouth, making it slide in gently at first, but building up to a much faster pace, making sure that the head would hit the back of my throat as much as possible and only toning down the pace when I couldn't suppress the gagging anymore. Listening to Eric's moans is like music to my ears.

"Kyle, fuck me in the ass!" Eric asks me in between two moans. I freeze and almost spit his dick out of my mouth before sitting back up.

"I beg your pardon?" I ask, completely bewildered and taken off guard.

"I said fuck me in the ass... please?" He repeats a blush slowly creeping on his face.

I swallow dryly: I've never been on the top before and I really hope I won't disappoint him. I gently incite him to turn around and lie down on his stomach and pull the bottle of lube from his night stand. I insert one finger in his ass and start sliding it in and out. I feel him tense up.

"Relax, or it'll hurt more than anything." I gently tell him.

As soon as I feel his muscles relax, I insert another one, but I pick up the pace a little bit. Eric finally releases a small moan and his entrance is completely relaxed now: it's time to make love to him. I cover my throbbing erection with a good quantity of lube and I start rubbing my erect member on his hole until I finally enter him, ever so slowly and ever so gently. The deeper my cock reaches, the more Eric's body starts tensing up and the more he whimpers. After about three or four gentle thrusts, he starts relaxing and it's my cue to pick up the pace. As I thrust a little faster, Eric's whimpers turn into moans. I try different angles of penetration until I hit a particular spot which makes him shout out in pleasure. The fact that he's enjoying this so much fills me with pride and it turns me on immensely.

"Turn around: I want to see your face." I order him after pulling out.

He complies with my request and the second I see his face, I feel a jolt going from my gut to my dick, making it throb: he's flushed and is starting to be out of breath, but the look on his face is one of pure gratification. I smirk, overflowing with pride as I position myself and rest his legs on top of my shoulders. I enter him once more and find that special spot after a few thrusts. Eric moans, and screams and begs for more, so I fuck him harder and harder. He's just so incredibly hot right now that I don't know how long I can keep going like this before reaching the point of no return. I reach down and kiss him passionately and after mere moments, it's as though my hips have a mind of their own.

"I love you Eric!" I yell after breaking our kiss.

"I love you too Kyle!" He yells in between moans and grunts.

I pound his ass until I climax, releasing my seed inside of him. I lie on top of him for a few moments in order to catch my breath before rolling off to the side. I notice that my fiancé came all over the place: there's semen on both our stomachs and some that leaked all over the sheets. We both lie down next to each other panting just looking at one another.

"Eric?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"No, thank you! Had I known getting fucked felt so great, I would have let you do it to me long ago." He replies smiling.

"No, I mean thank you for showing me the real you. Your mom was right: you're beautiful inside and out. You made me come out of my shell and encouraged me to stand up for myself for once." I say, smiling at him.

"Oh. It's my pleasure!" He replies blushing.

He slides himself closer to me and pulls me in. While we cuddle, my mind is on the future. In a little over a year, Eric and I will leave this shitty little town and travel all over the world. When we'll come back, we'll probably have made up our minds as to what we want to do with our lives and we'll make it happen. We'll get married, settle down and maybe, we'll adopt a kid or two and enjoy a nice life together. It won't be a quiet and peaceful life, not with the way the two of us are. Eric and I are like the ying and the yang, like fire and ice. The passion between the two of us burns hotter than a million suns. We're two opposites so alike that together nothing can stop us. Together, we are invincible. I fall asleep wondering what the future holds for us.

Fin.

* * *

There you have it! I want to take the time to thank everyone that followed and reviewed my story. It was nice to see that so many people enjoyed my crazy story. I may post an epilogue or write a sequel for Pleasing Falsetto, or even a spin off at some point, but right now I have another project that I'll be working on for the next little while. You can go see my profile if you want to find out more.

Once again, thank you for your continuous support.

I love you all,

xoxoxox Clotgirl xoxoxox


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